


Keeping a Secret is Not So Easy

by Novax



Series: Secrets Abound [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Drama & Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Romance, Slow Burn, Strong Female Characters, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-06-02 14:45:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 40
Words: 60,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19443592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Novax/pseuds/Novax
Summary: She is enhanced, but hides it well. Her powers are used for healing and helping, not defense or attack, until they get the better of her.Clint Barton brings her back to the Avengers Tower after the Battle of New York, he is falls immediately in lust with her; but does he really love her.  She has to keep her distance to keep him and the Avengers safe, regardless of any urges or feelings she has towards him.





	1. A New York State of Mind

Moving to New York seemed a good idea at the time; a different pace of life, job security, and a sense of anonymity I could never get back home. Then a man in a metal suit, a half naked green thing, a guy who loved his hammer and some spandex wearing bodybuilders trashed my neighbourhood; apparently saving the world from invading aliens and a mythological Norse god.

I was on shift the day of the “Battle of New York,” waiting at the hall for the tones to sound and head off to another heart attack, stroke or overdose—really the opioid problem in this country needed to be hard core addressed—but instead I was sent to downtown Manhattan and holy fuck. Civilians were trapped everywhere, there was falling debris, a funky blue light that seemed to be making some sort of wormhole into outer-space, and I shit you not attacking aliens. There was no order, no triage area, just chaos and fear. I looked at my partner, we each grabbed a trauma bag and did what we were trained to do, save lives.

Transport was impossible, I had to focus on basic life saving—airway, breathing, circulation—many were already dead or half way in the grave and one foot on a banana peel. I had to leave them behind, as much as possible I had an uninjured civilian stay with them, no one should be alone in their last moments. We found a group of people around a person who was saveable, a quick tourniquet then move them out of the open into a nearby store. I had just started to move the person into the store when an arrow of all things went zinging by my ear.

“The fuck was that!” I shouted, before remembering I'm really not supposed to curse in uniform, but when aliens are attacking, most of the rules of proper decorum go out the window.

  
“Shit, my bad…” a guy wearing purple (seriously purple) and black combat leathers—something I did not know existed until this very moment—and carrying a bow and arrow said as he ran by towards a guy wearing a spangly red, white and blue uniform.

  
“This town is messed up,” I said as we got the injured person and his companions into the store. One of the bystanders started shouting “IT’S CAPTAIN AMERICA WE’RE SAVED!” All I could think is that I hoped I could get my security deposit back on the apartment and get the fuck back to Canada and quick. Aside from the standard Friday night shootings and stabbings, the weirdest thing I ever had to deal with back home was a porcupine attack, aliens were not in my scope of training.

  
Messed up city or not, attacking aliens or not, there were still people who needed my help. I left my partner in the store to start setting up some semblance of a triage area as the fighting seemed to be moving towards the wormhole thing and the are around seemed to be calming down. I grabbed my bag and ran back out into the melee. Just as I got to the middle of the street one of the alien things hit the ground beside me; I tucked and rolled up against a car and looked up to see if more aliens would rain down on me and instead saw the purple archer guy crash through a 16th storey window in the building across the street. There were no injured persons around so I ran into the building to see if I could find him or anyone else who was hurt.

  
I literally ran into him as I turned onto the landing between the 7th and 8th floor, he was tearing down the stairs, I was tearing up the stairs. “Sir, are you ok? I saw you go through the window, I’m a medic and can help if you are injured.” I said picking myself up off the floor, he was solid and went down when I ran into him. “Ma’am I’m always injured…” Before he was able to finish the sentence one of the alien things jumped down and landed between us. Bow guy, who apparently had no arrows, smacked the alien thing with his bow, to little effect. I picked up my bag, pulled out the oxygen tank and bash the shit out of the things head, repeatedly, until it didn’t get up.

  
“Nicely done,” said bow guy with a look of admiration and approval “I don’t need assistance, but there are people two floors up in need of help.” He was already a flight below you before he finished his sentence.

  
“But you’re bleeding” I called after him.

  
“Tell me something I don’t know sweetheart” echoed up the stairwell.

  
Eventually the wormhole closed, the National Guard rolled in and we were able to start transporting the injured to area hospitals and dealing with the dead. After what felt like the hundredth transport of the day, I was able to sit for five minutes in the staff lounge at Beth Israel, the news was on and all that was showing was the destruction in midtown and interviews with survivors of the battle. One short video showed a group of costumed people fighting the aliens, “who are those people?” I muttered.

  
My partner was half asleep next to me on the lounge sofa, opened one eye and said “Captain America, the Hulk, Iron Man, Thor and I dunno who the broad is or the dude with the bow.”

  
“Eric, you can’t call a lady wearing all leather and sporting two Glock 26 with extended clips a ‘broad,’ there is a fair chance you will die.”

  
“Well she’s not here and the only time I’ll see her again is in my dreams, so I’m none to concerned. And how do you know so much about guns?”

  
“If I tell you about the guns, I'll have to kill you. I think I met the arrow guy, he ran by us when we were bringing the femoral bleed into the store on West 38 street, he’s the dude who crashed through the window.”

  
“Alright, so you know Robin Hood better than I do, why do you care, is he going to be in your dreams tonight?”

  
“No…probably not. But he doesn’t look like he’s magic or has a fancy flying suit or can lift a car, like the rest of those people, and he seemed really injured, I just hope he gets help.”

  
“Of course you do, I bet you just want to have him go tarps off, and give him a very thorough examination.”

  
“Shut up Eric... And did you say Thor, the Norse Thunder God, what the fuck dude.”

  
“Welcome to New York, rats the size of cats, and where the Gods of lore come to life.”

  
We finished our shift, which to no ones surprise, was substantially longer than our contract allowed for, but there is no alien invasion clause, so we’ll apparently have to work that in in the next round of negotiations. Most of the others had already found ways home, Eric’s fiancée picked him up they offered me a ride but I had no patience to listen to her go on about how hard this day had been for her and how traumatized she was and how this was going to affect her forever. She worked in Jersey and had been nowhere near any of the bad, but anytime something a little wrong happened, it was all about her. I had taken the subway to work, but since it was shutdown to rule out gas leaks and structural problems and other shit I didn’t care to figure out, I had to walk home.

  
I have seen destruction and the aftermath of combat during my volunteer work with the Red Cross, but it was usually in areas that had little in the way of infrastructure, no major high rises, public transport, money; destruction in a Syrian village is much different than destruction in Midtown Manhattan. It was eerie. Luxury vehicles and electronics were strewn across the ground, a pair of abandoned come-fuck-me red Jimmy Choo’s were being fought over by a couple of pros.  
I turned onto my block with a sense of relief, all I wanted was a warm shower and several large glasses of wine or whisky, or both…hadn’t decided yet. I lived in a simple studio apartment in the garment district, the rent was OBSCENE! But fortunately, I had saved all of the insurance money from the incident back home, so I wasn’t struggling. The lack of space was a bit sucky, but since I spent most of my time at work I didn’t really notice too much.

  
“You have got to be shitting me.” So, here’s something you may not know. If you drop something from really high up it may not fall straight down, in fact if a bunch of alien warships or alien jet ski things fall from the sky while they still have momentum, they may fall far from the area that is considered the battle zone. They may fall so far as to land on my building.

  
There was a bright orange and white do not cross barrier in front of my building. And of course, a cop enforcing the do not cross edict. I went up to the cop who was standing at the barricade in front of my building to find out what was up. Fortunately for me, I knew the cop. “Hey Johnny, any chance I can get in and grab some of my stuff?”

  
“Come on Christina, it says no entry right here on this sign in front of me, and I’m here making time and half on OT to keep your ass out.”

  
“Come on dude,” I pleaded “I just need a change of clothes and my computer, you know I’ve been in worse places under worse conditions, pleeeaasseee?” I batted my eyelashes, and did my best to look innocent and adorable, not my two best or easiest looks.

“Fine, 5 minutes, in and out, if any one sees you, I’m arresting you.”

  
I ran in, grabbed a duffel bag, stuffed a few changes of clothes, my laptop a few books and other essentials and was back out the door in 3 minutes flat.  
“Johnny, any idea where I can crash? I’m guessing most of the hotels are booked, do you have a line on anything?”

  
“I’ve been told to have everyone call the Stark Emergency Relief phone number; I can give that to you if you want.”

  
“Thanks, but I’ll pass, I’ll just hoof it back down to the station and crash there I guess.”

  
What is usually a 25 minute walk from my apartment to the station was getting close to taking an hour, I kept having to detour around downed power lines and leaking gas lines. Taking this long normally wouldn’t have bothered me but since it had already taken me over an hour to get from the hospital to trashed apartment building and had been up for almost 36 hours, I needed to sit down and have a drink. It was nearing noon, so a drink was definitely in order.

  
Thankfully I knew about hole in the wall, not on yelp, dive bar that wouldn’t close for the zombie apocalypse, let a lone a measly little alien invasion, that was on the way to the station. After a moment of panic where the door wouldn’t open, it was stuck on some mystery goo, I walked into the blissful smell of old beer, vomit, urine and smoke.


	2. Hey, I Know You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They meet, they flirt.

Surprisingly there were not a lot of people in the bar, I would think after your city has been trashed, and saved, you go for a beer. But what do I know, I’m new to the city. There was a young couple in one of the booths along the back wall, a group of biker types hovering at the pool table and a guy in a cap and hoodie with the hood up at the bar.

I bellied up to the bar, sitting a few stools over from the guy in cap and hood, and signaled to the bar tender.

“Hey Nova, what’ll it be today? I’ve come up with a new drink…the Space Invader.”

“Billy, don’t call me Nova, it’s a stupid obvious nickname. And what’s in a Space Invader?”

“It’s Blue Curaco, Pineapple Vodka and Bailey’s…when the Bailey’s curdles it’s the little aliens coming to destroy you!”

After a moment of dry heaving, I was able to order a Laughavulin (neat) and settle in. Billy had the news playing on the TV above the bar. It was the same footage as before, destruction, aliens, and stories of how everyone was saved by the costumed weirdos. I snorted and muttered “of course, the costumed people saved every single person, the hundreds of cops, firefighters and medics were just sitting with their thumbs up their butts doing jack shit the whole time.”

I didn’t really think I was being very loud, but Billy chuckled and nodded—he was former fire—and the dude in the cap and hood looked my way. I noticed he was also wearing sunglasses, who wears sunglasses inside, during the day, and a cap and a hood. Must be a douche.

“Hey, I know you.” Said sunglasses, cap-hood man.

“No you don’t….oh hey your bow man. I was worried about you, did you get patched up ok?”

“Bow man?” He said, removing his sunglasses and raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, well I didn’t know your name and Robin Hood and Legolas seemed fairly derivative, so I kept it simple.”

He snorted, looked away and blushed a bit when I said Legolas.

“Something you want to tell me, bow man? Secret Lord of the Rings Fantasy, perhaps?”

“No, it’s nothing like that, an asshole I work with called me that today, and by the way, my name is Clint, Clint Barton.” He extended his hand to me across the two stools between us. I shook his hand and said “Christina, nice to meet you.”

He slid over so he was sitting next to me, “why did the bartender call you Nova?”

“I’m new to the area and apparently calling be new girl wasn’t his style.”

“Really, that’s it? That’s dull.”

“Yeah, that’s it.” I didn’t need this Clint fella digging into what Billy did or did not know about me and how I came to have a specialty nickname in the few months I’d been in the city. “You didn’t answer my question; did you get patched up ok?” I ran a quick eye over him, aside from filling out his faded, ripped jeans so well, I didn’t notice much. A bruise on his left maxilla, scrape on the right zygomatic arch, nothing that seemed life threatening.

“I’ll be alright, I got taken care of at the tower. I’ll be a bit sore tomorrow, but that’s tomorrow’s problem. Today’s problem is whether I want to stick to beer or move on to something a bit harder.”

“Ahhh, a challenging query indeed.” I said with a smirk.

“What are you drinking?”

“Lagavulin, 16, neat, Islay single malt. It’s the shit.” I nudged my glass towards him so he could smell the wonderful smokeness, and then he downed the rest. Jerk.

“Billy, I’ll have what she’s having and she’ll have another.” Clint said, flagging down the bartender and sliding my, now empty, glass back to me. “So, you’re a paramedic with FDNY, who can somehow beat an alien creature to death with an oxygen tank, and then somehow find the best unknown dive bar in Chelsey and school me on whisky?”

“Mostly true,” I said smirking into my glass, “I’m technically only classified as an EMT until my licenses are inspected and approved.”

“What do you mean by that?”

I sighed, took a long pull off of my new drink, leaned back, and almost fell off of my stool—why don’t bar stools have backs—Clint reached out and grabbed my arm, steadying me and pulling me stable again.

“You sure you should finish that drink Christina?”

“Yeah, it’s not the booze, I’m going on 36 hours awake, after 4 hours sleep, forgive me if my balance is a wee bit off. But to answer your question, I’m an emergency and trauma surgeon as well as a critical care paramedic, back home. The US doesn’t have a one for one licensing agreement with Ontario, so they have to review everything and make sure I’m not going to fuck up any US citizens with my subpar Canadian education. Maybe they don’t trust me because we have free health care.”

“If you’re a surgeon, why are you working as a FDNY EMT then?”

“Because I like to help people, especially when it seems like help isn’t coming.” I took a deep breath, pushing down some of the more unpleasant memories down into the don’t acknowledge until wasted section of my brain. “Being a surgeon is great, but the expectations are different, and it’s more about the accolades and prestige, I love being able to use my surgical knowledge to do more in the field, as a medic. Sometimes…sometimes people need to run in when everyone else is running out.”

Clint looked at me for almost an uncomfortably long time, locking my eyes with his blue, or were they green, hazel, eyes, picked up his rock glass took a sip and said “What’s with the duffle bag?”

I looked down at the drab green bag beside my stool and groaned. The comfort of a good bar and a good drink had pushed the fact that I still had to get back to the station and hopefully find an empty cot to crash in, completely from my mind.

“Some form of alien transportation fell through the roof of my building. It’s technically condemned. I had to sweet talk the officer at the barricade to let me in.”

“Poor guy, didn’t stand a chance.” Clint snickered.

“Shut it bow boy. I’m working my way back to the station in hopes of finding a corner to crash in. But I felt a drink or two was needed first.”

“I’ve got a place you can crash.”

“Ummm, wow, thanks Clint, but seeing as how I just met you, actually I met you while you were defending the city with a bow and arrow, not gonna’ lie that’s kind of weird, I’m going to pass on what ever Hunger Games fantasy you’re concocting.”

“Seriously, Hunger Games, come on, I’m not a 15 year old… never mind, I didn’t mean my place, I don’t even live in New York, I have a room at Stark Towers, there are plenty of rooms, I’m sure Tony would let you take one for the day.”

“That’s very kind of you, to offer someone else’s home to me. But again, I’ll pass…”

“No, you won’t, you need a bed, not a blanket in a corner, and a shower, you’re kind of dirty, and some real food. I think we’re getting shwarma. And….and…Tony has an amazing liquor cabinet. After what you went through and did for the city over the past 24 hours, you deserve a room in a billionaire, playboy, philanthropists tower of power.”

“Tower of Power?”

“Yeah, you ever see the movie Shrek, when the get to Duloc and the castle is really big but Farquaad really tiny…I have an unconfirmed theory that Stark has a comparatively small…”

“Stop. Now. Please. Whatever it is you plan on saying next, don’t. I surrender, I accept your invitation to stay at Lord Starks castle. Wait, did you call me dirty?”

“At least I didn’t say you smell.”

While Clint settled up with Billy, gallantly footing the bill for both our drinks, I tired to surreptitiously smell myself, did I smell? Maybe a little, it was hard to tell, I know for a fact I’ve smelled worse.

“How far is the walk to Starks tower?” I asked once we were outside.

“Oh, we’re not walking.” Clint grabbed my hand, something I was not prepared for and not going to lie, I felt a little shock run through me into my low abdomen, wow I really did need to sleep. He led me to a motorcycle, one that conveyed speed even when completely stationary.

“We’re getting there on that? How about you give me the address and I’ll just meet you there.”

“Trust me, I just helped save the city, it’s not like I’m going to let you get hurt.” He sat on the bike, and turned to look at me, half smirk dancing on his lips.

“Fine, but if I die, I’m going to hit you with an oxygen tank Barton.” I climbed on behind him, slinging my duffle across my back. I reached my arms around his middle, resting my hands gently on his hips.

Wow. This guy was stacked, I could feel the muscles in his shoulders and back flex against my front as he kicked the bike into gear. We took off, fast, and I had to grip him harder, I could feel the muscles in his abs tighten against my touch. This man definitely had the iliac furrow, you know the V-muscles on a fit guys lower abs that essentially point to his dick, yeah Barton had them, and I was touching them. Yay.

The drive from Chelsea to Park Ave was fast and somewhat reckless, maybe I should have been wearing a helmet. It was definitely faster than walking. The speed took my mind off of how close I was pressed against this gorgeous man, who I barely knew. I had to keep reminding myself of that, I don’t know this man, I don’t know what his intentions are, I can look and touch a bit, but that’s all, no more. Clint pulled into a surprisingly undamaged underground parking structure and we dismounted next to an elevator.

“Follow me.” Clint said, stepping into the elevator. “Residential floors, JARVIS.”

“Of course, Agent Barton. Shall I inform the others that you have brought a guest?”

“Who’s JARVIS, who are the others, and why did he call you Agent Barton? Are you FBI or something?”

“HA” Clint barked, “like the FBI could handle me.” Clint actually gave a pretty deep belly laugh before continuing, “JARVIS is the AI computer that Tony created to run, well, everything, the others are Tony, Steve, Natasha and Bruce. They all have fun nicknames, but I’ll let them meet you first.”

“Do you have a nickname?” I asked.

“Yeah, but I’d rather you just call me by my real name, most people don’t so it’s nice to hear someone use it.” He peered at me out of the corner of his eye just in time to see me smiling up at him.

“Ok, Clint. I’ll make sure I refer to you only as Clint. How does that sound, Clint?” I giggled softly to myself as he rolled his eyes. “No, really, I understand, wanting to hold onto a piece of yourself, even if it’s something as simple as your name.”

“Thank you, Christina. You’ll tell me the story behind Nova one day, right?”

“I’ll tell you mine, when you tell me yours, Clint.”

I smiled up at him, he turned to face you, I could feel the heat radiating off of his body, filling the small space in the elevator car.

“It’s a deal.” He said, huskily. Just as the elevator opened.

I turned to face the open door, the room before me, not at all what I was expecting.


	3. Avengers Assemble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint introduces her to the main team

“Hey, everyone, this is Christina, Christina this is, well, this is everyone.” Clint said pulling me out of the elevator.

“What’s this Barton, picking up strays again?” A dapper looking man in a Black Sabbath t-shirt said.

“Come on Tony, I bring home one dog, a cute dog, and I never hear the end of it?”

“So, am I the dog in this situation?” I asked, “I’m really not ok with that, and point of fact, most women are not ok with being referred to as dog.”

I took a step farther into the room, leaving Clint’s side. The East wall was one big window overlooking the devastation that was once Manhattan. The West was a full marble and mahogany bar, seemed promising. And the North and South walls had corridors running off of them into the depths of the building.

“Hi everyone. My name is Christina and this feels like a really weird intervention.”

“Christina is an FDNY EMT, her apartment was trashed by some of the Chitarui debris, and she needs a place to crash. I offered her a room here. I didn’t think anyone would mind, this is the woman that took down a Chitarui warrior with an oxygen tank, saved both our lives.” Clint said this, facing the team before him, it seemed as if he was asking someone to challenge his judgement on bringing her here. 

No one did.

“Ma’am, thank you for your service during this battle. We have accommodations available for you. I’m Steven Rogers, some call me Captain America.”

“Ah,” I said, “fun nicknames, I see. Look, I appreciate you guys putting me up for the night, but I won’t be in your hair long, I promise.”

“You can stay as long as you need.” Clint said from behind me.

“Hey, Legolas, how about we don’t offer up prime Stark real estate until we know who we’re dealing with.” Tony said, he moved behind the bar and looked you up and down. “You look like you need a drink, I’m guessing Archer here tried to show off on his motorcycle, what’s your poison?”

“You got any single malt, Islay?”

“A girl who knows here drinks, I approve Barton.”

“Shut up Stark and pour me a drink.”

“You didn’t say please.”

“Gentlemen,” I interrupted, grabbing my rock glass off the bar top, “play nice, you’re on one team.”

I sipped my drink, listening to the banter around me. The guy behind the bar, was Tony Stark; muscles with too small of a shirt, Steven Rogers; glasses and messy hair, Bruce Banner; red head giving me a death stare, Natasha Romanov. 

From what I gathered these folks were a team, they worked together to defeat the Norse trickster God Loki, with the help of Thor, Norse God of Thunder. The word shield came up a lot, but I wasn’t sure if it meant shield as in an armour shield or shield as in a secret that I wasn’t privy too. As I was debating the merits of both arguments, a hand grabbed me by the shoulder.

“Hey, I think it’s time to get you to bed, you’re sleeping at the bar and I think they cut you off for that type of thing.”

I hadn’t realized that I was nodding off into my drink as these friends discussed the battle they had just been in. Their jabs and jests more friendly and loving, than disparaging. It was warm and comforting, and lulling me too sleep as I leaned on the bar.

“S’all right, I’m good.” I muttered, more than half asleep.

A pair of strong arms wrapped around my middle, pulling me close so I wouldn’t fall. He smelled so good; spice, leather and a coppery tang that may have been blood. “Come on darlin’ I’ll bring you to your room.”

He walked me down a long hallway, stopping half way to scoop me into his arms, my legs finally giving out; hours of exhaustion and trauma finally catching up to me. He stopped at one of the doors near the end. He half propped me against the door frame, half against his body, using his free hand to open the door.

“We’re here, this is your room.” He carried me in and laid me on the bed. Laying half on next to me, his torso on the bed with me, his legs kneeling on the floor.

“Clint…”

“Yes, sweetheart,” he whispered in my ear.

“Why does Natasha hate me, I don’t even know her.” Her death stare fresh in my mind.

I felt Clint’s body move against me as he chuckled. “She doesn’t hate you, she doesn’t know you, and she’s worried about me.”

“I won’t hurt you…unless you make me.” I sat up quickly, startling Clint so he fell back, none to gracefully. “My bag, I need my bag, did you grab it.” I said suddenly awake.

“No, it’ll be where you left it in the morning, I promise.” Clint said, trying to untangle himself from his own limbs. “Why do you want it so bad?”

“Clint, my life is in that bag, I can’t leave it anywhere.” I started to get up off of the bed, only to be pushed back down again.

“I’ll go get it, you sleep, it will be here when you wake up.” He stood up, groaning as he stretched his body.

“That was an old man groan, Barton.” I said, muffled up against the pillows.

“Quiet you.” Was the response I got, accompanied by a gentle kiss, just under my ear on the top of my jaw.

My body clenched in its most intimate areas at the touch, but the touch was gone in a moment. A quick swish of fabric and the sound of a door closing were the last things I heard before falling hard to sleep.


	4. So, What's the Deal Barton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nat is protective of Clint

“So, what’s the deal Hawkeye.” Tony asked, leaning against the bar. “Where did you find her and what, pray tell, are your intentions?”

“I already told you, Tony, she helped me out during the battle, took down a Chitauri warrior, and her building was trashed. She needed a place to stay and since you have a million rooms, I offered her one. No big deal.”

“But, how did you find her to offer her a room?” Natasha asked from across the room. “After Thor took Loki back to Asgard, you said you were going for a ride to clear your head and you’d be back later. You come back later, with a woman that we have never met and say she’s staying the night? I hope you used protection Barton, ‘cause we don’t need some groupies shit to be dragging us down.”

“Nat, what the fuck, Christina and I did not have sex. I went for a drink at Billy’s, she was there, we talked, she needed a place to stay, we have lots of space. Billy seemed to know here and she seems alright. It’s not like she brought an IED into the building. JARVIS would have sniffed that shit out any day.”

Natasha got up from her seat, uncoiled her self would be a more appropriate term. Clint had to agree with his inner thought process that no person alive could look more threatening just standing up from sitting than Natasha Romanov.

“Listen to me Clint, you’re barely over Laura, if even over her at all. You get mind fucked by Loki and then bring home some rando, this isn’t you. You need to be more cautious, she could be a bad guy, even if your dick says she isn’t.”

“Nat, that’s enough. I’m helping her out, that’s it, nothing more. I’m going to drop off her bag and then go to bed myself, it’s been a long few days.”

“Stay in your own room Barton, or we’ll be having words again in the morning.”

Clint was tempted to tell Nat to fuck off and mind her business, but she was right. He and Laura were barely divorced, her call not his, he’d never been pushed aside for another man before, it was a new feeling and he wasn’t exactly sure how to deal with it, yet. He would put Christina’s bag inside the door to her room and go off to his own room, maybe take a cold shower.

It had only been a few days, and the devastation Loki had brought on him was still fresh in his mind. He had always thought of himself as a strong person, surviving childhood abuse, a disability, being orphaned and alone, and becoming a killer for hire. But what Loki had done to him, was indescribable, he had no control, no ability to fight back and be his own man again. He had raised his hand against his allies and best-only friend in the world. She took him back with out question, Nat would never judge him for something he could not control. But the others, they looked at him like he could have done more to stop Loki, and what if other people found out what he had done. What if Christina found out he had killed like a mindless drone.

He knocked on Christina’s door before entering, even though she was practically asleep when he left, there was no saying what she would be when he returned. He got no response to his knock, so he knocked again as he opened the door, “Hey I’ve got your bag, it’s just here inside the door.” She murmured something as she rolled over in the bed to face the door, still in her street clothes. The t-shirt she had thrown on after work was riding up, settling just below her bra.

Clint mentally chastised himself for perving on her, he felt guilty watching her sleep, wanting to join her to see if she could make his nightmares disappear. Maybe holding her, loosing himself in her would make the pain and uncertainty go away. He felt himself go hard at the thought, pressing against the fabric of his jeans; he knew he had to walk away before he crossed a line that he didn’t know existed until now.

“Clint...”

He turned back, certain he heard her say his name, ready to go to her if she wanted him. But she was asleep, maybe she was dreaming of him. A guy could hope.


	5. The Next Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony offers Christina a job

I woke up with a start. With a start, I'd never really thought that term made any sense, until this very moment. Bolt upright, in an unfamiliar room in an unfamiliar bed. I had played, ‘guess who’s ceiling’ quite a few times in my youth, usually after a good night of drinking and dancing. But I was a grown ass woman now, and my body was telling me that no fun had happened last night…so where the hell was I?

The memories of the past day or so slowly started to fill my brain, the Battle of New York, my apartment being destroyed, the nice man at Billy’s bar offering me a place to crash…that was it, I was at Stark Towers in some random room that some random guy in a bar had offered me. I swung my feet to the floor and looked around, relived to see my bag sitting just inside the door.

I scooped up my bag and pulled out a change of clothes, comfy jeans, Linkin Park t-shirt and a button up cardigan. I don’t know if it was a nice gesture or just the standard of awesomeness here in Stark Towers, but my room had an attached bathroom, a bathroom that was as big as my apartment. I pulled off my slept in clothing and climbed into a blissfully warm shower. 

If this had been my place, the hot water would have run out seven minutes in, this being Stark Towers, I was in for a good half of an hour, every bit of me was shaved and scrubbed clean…why was there a new razor in the shower? I added this to my list o’questions for later.

Leaving the shower, I wrapped myself in the biggest, fluffiest towel and bath robe to ever exist. I dug through my bag and thankfully found my cell phone…still charged

I had a few text messages from back home, asking for details about what had happened. Those could wait. There was a missed call from Eric, so I rang him back.

“CHRISTINA! Where are you, what happened after you left the hospital?!?”

“Good morning Eric, I guess you got home ok then.”

“Yeah, I did, but I heard your neighbourhood was trashed, where are you? You can come stay at our place.”

“Eric, I am not sleeping at your and Erins’s place, she’s like the annoying Janice from Friends, I don’t want to have to kill the woman you love. That being said, I’m fine. I stopped at Billy’s bar, bow man was there and he offered me a place to crash.”

“You fucked Robin Hood”?

“No, I did not fuck Robin Hood. His name is Clint, Billy seems to know him, he seems to be alright. I’m currently sitting in Stark Towers, on the biggest bed in existence, alone. After taking a shower in the world’s larges shower, alone. After sleeping in aforementioned bed, alone. Nothing happened, we had some drinks, he brought me here, I slept, I presume he slept somewhere else.”

“Stark Towers, you mean the billionaire Tony Stark? I’m sooo coming over, he probably has the best gaming system to ever have gamed.”

“Eric, no, stay where you are, it’s apparently hard enough to explain one non superhero to these people, I don’t know how everyone here would react to two non super heroes. OH !! And red hair leather lady, her name is Natasha, she would totally kill you…Do we work today Eric?”

“Nah, they saw what you and I did, mostly you, and gave us the day off. We have to be back Thursday for the Noon to Midnight shift.”

“Excellent, I’ll see you tomorrow. Love ya!”

“Love ya too, doll.”

I hung up on Eric and started to plan my day. First, food, somewhere in this tower there must be a kitchen in which I could scrounge up some food. Second, habitation, my apartment was trashed, so I needed to find a new place to live until my apartment was fixed…wait, wasn’t I just thinking of moving home, what changed? A sudden memory of spice and leather, that’s what changed, the archer…No, I can’t get close to anyone, especially someone potentially well known and in cahoots with enhanced people. I need to find a new place, quick.

I dressed quickly, grabbed my laptop out of the bag, shoved the bag under the bed, opened the door and followed my nose…someone was making breakfast.

Clint just so happened to be walking down the corridor, when he heard Christina say ‘love ya’ to someone on the phone. If she had someone she loved, why didn’t she stay there last night? What was she hiding?

“Oh, hey, good morning Clint.” I said, finding myself walking next to Clint towards the delicious smell of coffee and bacon.

“Good morning, who was on the phone?”

“Wow, you’re a nosey fella in the morning.” I said smiling, “It was my partner, Eric, when you spend almost 12 hours a day with the same person in a moving metal can and see the best and worst of what life has to give, you tend to end up loving your partner….I mean, we’re not in love or anything.” I back-peddled seeing the quick, almost to be missed, look of sadness on Clint’s face, “I love him like one of my brothers, only I trust him with my life. You wouldn’t understand…” I sighed.

“You’d be surprised at what I understand.” Clint responded, stopping in the hallway, just before the entry to the great room they were in the evening before. 

I stopped too and turned to face him, head coked to once side, waiting for him to continue.

“Nat, she’s like my sister and best friend all rolled into one, it’s why she was giving you her world’s best death stare last night.”

“Ah, I see…and I get it. Now, let’s find out who’s making bacon and join on in, I’m starving.”

We walked into the kitchen together, Natasha was at the stove frying up some bacon. The look on her face when we walked in together was enough to stop me in my tracks, the actual embodiment of if looks could kill.

Clint walked up to her and whispered something in her ear, the look to kill lessened, and switched to a more ‘I’m going to poison you slowly for my pleasure’ look.

“Why did you bring your laptop to breakfast?” Clint asked.

I had gone through a few servings of bacon and eggs, starving from the work put in over the past few days. Clint may have drank a full gallon of coffee, but I lost count after the third pot. Blood tests should be run, or at the very least the Mad TV coffee guy videos must be found and played on the big TV in the great room.

“Well,” I said afters swallowing a mouthful, “my apartment is condemned, so I should probably find a new place to live; I’ve never had the homeless experience, and I’m ok never living that experience.”

“You are more than welcome to stay here. In fact with your education and experience, I may offer you a job.” Tony walked in, wearing a full 3-piece suit, jacket and everything.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark…”

“Tony, or Iron Man, please.”

“Tony, thank you, but I already have a job, I just need a new apartment that hasn’t been squashed.”

“We need a person here who is well versed in traumatic wound repair and who can keep their mouth shut. Seeing as how there is no news feed of a fine young woman staying at the Avengers tower, after being invited to spend the night by a rouge bird man, I think you fit the bill perfectly.”

“Ok, couple of questions, one what’s the Avengers tower, two what’s a bird man and three, how do you not have the worlds best trauma surgeons on speed dial?”

“Ah, there was once an idea that was the Avengers, a group of strong good people who are hellbent on saving the world. This idea is starting to come to fruition, as such I’m hiring; thus the job offer. Furthermore, I had JARVIS dig into your background and you are one of the most decorated, talented trauma surgeons in the world, so I want you. As for birdman, well, I’m Iron man; Steve is Captain America; Natasha is the Black Widow; Bruce is the Hulk and your new friend here” Tony said, motioning towards Clint, “is the illustrious Hawkeye.”

“Why are you Hawkeye?” I ask.

“Because I never miss a shot. Why are you Nova?”

“Because I’m new, we went over this last night.”

“Billy doesn’t just give nicknames because you’re new, we all know him better than that.”

“What makes you think Billy gave me my handle?”

“I thought you said…”

“No, you assumed I said….”

“Ok you too, that’s enough.” Tony interjected. “Clint, more coffee, Christina, more whatever makes you less cranky. I know you both have the day off. I suggest you take the time to either get to know each other better or find a way to ignore each other really well. Christina, the job offer stands, if you want a job as the official surgeon to the Avengers, just you let me know.” Tony left the room straightening his tie.

“Thanks for jumping in there, Nat.” Clint said looking over at Natasha.

“Tony has a point, if she knows us she could help in the infirmary. Or you need to get her the hell out of here before she knows too much.”

“Ummm…” I said looking up from my laptop, “I’m sitting right here. So, if there are things you don’t want me to hear, you should probably say so, so that I can leave.”

“We don’t have secrets as a team, do we now Clint?” Natasha said, glairing at Clint, “Why don’t you tell her about Laura and your history, I’m certain she’ll take it all in stride.” Natasha stood up and walked away, not once looking back.

“Clint, I don’t need to know about Laura, your life, or anything else. We are currently nothing to each other, and it would be best that we keep it that way.”

I stood up from the breakfast bar and walked away, in a fashion shockingly similar to Natasha’s.

“I don’t like it when Tony says he wants you.” Clint called down the hallway after you.

“Tell it to Laura.” I quipped back, not knowing where the sudden surge of jealousy came from.


	6. The Training Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She trains and then makes dinner

When I left Clint in the kitchen, I wasn’t sure where I was headed so I wandered aimlessly through the hallways. I figured the doors without windows were probably more bedrooms, the end of one hallway branched, one section going to a set of French doors that seemed to lead to a terrace overlooking the city, the other section led to some weird padded rooms and a gym.

A gym, yes, that’s what I needed, a place to lift heavy things, punch solid shit and sweat until there was nothing left of me. I hurried back to the room I had slept in the night before, stowed my laptop, dug around in my bag, found some clothing what would work in the gym, snagged my iPod and scurried back to the gym.

It was unlike any gym I had been in before; the weights went up to numbers that I’d never seen, even in competition, there were targets on most of the walls, not cheap paper ones, but ones that could flip down and then come back up when least expected.

I figured I’d stick with my regular work out, rather than try to figure out all of the new equipment around me. I threw in my ear buds, blasted some old school rock and walked over to the squat rack. It was squat-bench day and I planned on hitting some new numbers.

Halfway through the work out, post squat, mid-bench, I got the uncanny feeling that I was being watched. I pulled out one ear bud, looked around, found myself to be alone and went back to the bar.

Clint was not sure what he was doing, this wasn’t his style; ok, so, technically it was his style, hiding up in the rafters, but not in a Stark Tower training room, rafters and air ducts were more mission oriented. Right now, he totally felt like he was spying, and not in a good sanctioned way, but he couldn’t help himself. He had watched her through her squat reps, finally ending at a single rep of 275, she looked so happy with herself, in fact she did what may be construed as a happy dance after the rep. Then she moved onto the bench press; she was struggling here. She got three reps at 175 and then moved the weight up to 185, but looked concerned. Clint was holding his breath when she un-racked the bar and lowered it to her chest.

“Shit, I didn’t set the safeties right, I may be fucked,” I thought lowering the 185 down to my chest. Pushing against gravity, I knew it was a bust, trying to figure out if the safeties were at least high enough to do a roll of shame, or if I was going to have to call out for help….JARVIS may be able to summon someone for help, what an embarrassing option, then suddenly, the weight was gone.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, pushing this weight with no spotter and fucked up safeties?”

“Oh, Hawkeye, hi.” I said sitting up on the bench, I felt kind of silly using his superhero moniker, but I wanted to try it out. “I don’t normally have a spotter, unless I’m working on competition PRs. I’ve moved this weight before, once, in comp, but apparently it’s different after three sets…Thanks, thanks for the assist.”

“You’re welcome.” Clint said looking at your flushed face, slightly sweaty, it was a good look on you and it was turning him on.

“How did you know I needed help?”

“I was…I mean patrols…air vent…it…it doesn’t matter.” Clint stuttered over an explanation. “Are you lifting more? I can stick around to spot, if you are.”

“No, I think I’m done pushing my luck. I think I’ll just do some cardio-flexibility stuff and call it a day.” I said, as I unloaded the bar. “Thanks again Clint.” I turned and went to the treadmills off in the corner of the room.

After I finished my workout, I showered once again in the worlds greatest shower, threw on some comfy sweats and went back down to the kitchen. It was too late for lunch, but maybe not to early to start dinner. I assumed that everyone who was in the building last night, was still there, so maybe I’d make dinner for everyone, a small thank you for all of the awkward hospitality.

I rummaged through the industrial sized fridge and pantry—why were their Cost-Co sized, bulk packs of Pop-Tarts—and found everything I needed for a pasta carbonara, garlic bread and stuffed peppers. I just wished I knew who was going to be here for dinner, and what time they normally ate.

“OH, right…the AI…JARVIS? Are you there?” I called out into the room, feeling very self-conscious speaking to no one.

“Yes, Christina, I am always here.”

“Fantastic, um so I’m making dinner and I want to make some for everyone, but I don’t know who is here or when they want to eat. Do you know?”

“Of course. Captain Rogers, Dr. Banner, Mr. Stark, Mr. Barton and Ms. Romanov are all present in the tower. I can send them an alert to inform them when dinner is ready to be served, if you wish.”

“That’d be great. Can you let them know dinner will be ready at 6:30.”

“I will do so.”

“Thanks, JARVIS.” It was really weird talking to nothing, but he was very efficient.

Just before 6:30 the elevator doors opened and Tony, Steve and Bruce walked in to the great room, and stopped short at the sight before them. I had set the table, found a couple of bottles of wine, and had bowl of salad, tray of stuffed peppers and warm garlic bread already laid out.

“Hi guys! Could one of you open the wine, I couldn’t find a corkscrew.”

Tony walked over to the bar, rummaged around for a moment and with a triumphant “Yay,” produced a corkscrew and then proceeded to open the wine.

“You guys can have a seat, I just need to finish off the sauce, then we should be good to go.”

I had just tossed the egg, cream and Parmesan mixture in with the pasta when Clint and Natasha walked in from the corridor I had yet to venture down.

“What’s all this?” Natasha asked.

“I made dinner, for everyone. You’ve been nice enough to give me a place to stay, and aside from absolutely nothing, this is the least I could do to thank you.”

Everyone had settled in and seemed to be enjoying the meal I had prepared. I was glad I made what I though to be too much, but apparently the appetite of an Avenger, is substantially greater than the appetite of a regular human being.

“So, Christina, why do you feel the need to lift such heavy weights? What do you have to prove?” Natasha asked, peering over the rim of her wine glass.

“How did you know I was lifting today, is this place wired or something?”

A resounding chorus of “Yes” from all of the men sitting around the table quickly answered that question.

“Oh, but that’s not how I know. A little bird told me.” Natasha said, leaning back in her chair, face deadpan.

“Thanks, Barton,” I said rolling my eyes. “I lift because I like it, the only person I’m completing against is myself. And because it helps me with my job. Have you ever tried to get a 400 lbs person, with a broken hip out of a five storey walk up? Yeah, I need to be pretty damn strong.”

“400 lbs and a five storey walk up, you’ve got to be kidding.” Bruce said, fork halfway to his mouth.

“No, true story. At least this person was wearing pants, you’d be surprised at how many people don’t wear pants, or underwear and then need to call 911 and need to be lifted and carried. It can be pretty nasty.”

“Well that’s an image I didn’t need at dinner.” Tony said reaching for more wine.

We ate our way through dinner, and I when I brought out the cheesecake I had made for dessert, I swear, even Natasha wanted to hug me. The team helped me clear away the plates, and fill the dishwasher. We spent the rest of the evening sitting and chatting about everything and nothing. These people, were, just that, people.

I stood up, put the throw that I had been using onto the back of the couch, stretched and bid everyone good night.

“Come on, it’s early, why are you going to bed now?” Tony asked, he was slumped down in the corner of the sectional, more asleep than awake.

“I have to work tomorrow…”

“Not until noon,” Clint interrupted.

“Why and how do you know that?” I asked shaking my head. “Anyway, I have to work tomorrow, at noon, but I’m also looking at some apartments in the morning.”

“Christina, you know you don’t have to leave. You can stay here as long as you need to.” Steve said.

“Thank you, Steve, I really appreciate everyone offering me a place in someone else’s home…”

“Mi casa es su casa.” Tony chimed in.

“Really guys, thank you but I can’t stay here, I have a life of my own and I’d like to get back to it, sooner rather than later. Good night everyone.”

I walked down the corridor to the room that I was staying in, oblivious to the fact that I was being followed.


	7. Clint's Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint tells her how he feels.

I closed the door to my room, but it didn’t close all the way, a very well muscled arm was blocking it from shutting completely.

“Clint, what are you doing?” I asked as he pushed the door open and slid into the room.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Now? I want to go to bed, can’t whatever this is wait until tomorrow?”

“You said you may not be here after tomorrow, so no it can’t wait.”

“Fine, but I’m putting on my jammies first.”

“Jammies?”

“Shut it, Barton.”

I grabbed my duffle off the floor and went into the bathroom to change, and hyperventilate a bit. Why was Clint in my room, what could he possibly need to talk about, was he going to try to claim payment for setting me up with a place to stay…not gonna lie to myself, the thought of that did make me tingle a bit.

I took a deep breath, splashed some water on my face, put on my jammies and walked back into the bedroom.

Clint was sitting on the floor at the foot of my bed, knees pulled up to his chest, chin resting a top his knees.

“So, what do you want to talk about?” I asked laying on the bed, my head hanging over the edge of the bed, next to his.

He took a deep breath, blew it out, and said nothing. Not a word, he just sat there staring at his hands.

“Uhh, Clint….?”

“I want you.”

“I’m sorry, what?!?”

“I want you. When I ran by you, during the fight, I’ve never wanted to quit fighting more in my life then right then and there. But I had a job to do. But I saw you again in the stairwell, and you didn’t hesitate to defend yourself, I had to run down the stairs just to keep myself away from you. I never thought I’d see you again; and why would I, you were just some random woman, one among millions in the city.”

He stopped, looked up at me, shook his head and continued.

“Then you were there, again, sitting on a stool in a bar that no one knows. I don’t believe in shit like fate and destiny, but…of all the gin joints in all the towns, in all the countries, you had to walk into mine. You’re smart, you’re strong, you’re beautiful, something keeps bringing us together, and I want you.”

I sat up, pushed my self back on the bed until I was pressed up against the headboard, looked at the ceiling and said, “well, you can’t have me.”

“Why?”

“Clint, I’m no good for you, you really don’t want me. I’m mean sure, you _want_ me, I am pretty damn sexy and have a great ass, but I’ve got far too much baggage, you don’t need to deal with my shit and yours and I’m not really up for a one-night stand.”

Clint stood up, spun around and pointed his finger at you. “You have baggage? You? My wife left me for my best friend who she’d been fucking for over a year. I was an assassin and a spy, I killed people for a living. I just spent the better part of a week with a mythological demi god rooted in my brain, I shot at my friends, I killed people I knew, because I wasn’t strong enough go get him out. You think you have baggage, no no, I have baggage. And I realized saying all this does not paint me in a good light.”

“Your wife left you for Natasha?” I asked.

“Wait, what, no, what?”

“You said your wife, who I presume is…was…Laura, was fucking your best friend. Yesterday you said Natasha was your best friend. Most guys would be into that.”

“My wife, ex-wife, did not fuck Natasha. It was my best friend from when I was a kid. And that’s what you take from all of this?”

“Look, I get it, you think you’re developing feelings for me, but you’re not—and I won’t let you. We met under traumatic circumstances and that can lead to a feeling of closeness and unity that doesn’t really exist. Lust and love are two very separate beings. All of the stuff that’s happened over the past week, you need time to regroup and, I dunno, find yourself again. You can, and will do better. You’re a damn fine-looking man, and you seem really sweet and caring, you can have any woman you want…except me. I need you to leave, now, please.”

“Christina, I can’t leave. I know we haven’t spent that much time together, but every second I’ve known you, I’ve felt different. Just this feeling that it’s going to be alright, I don’t really know how or why, but I know if I’m with you, the nightmares, and the pain, the fear, it will all just go away.”

I sighed, some of my resolve to keep pushing him away dissolving at his open and honest confession. I patted the bed next to me, offering him a place to sit. He kicked off his boots, and started to take off his shirt.

“Whoa, hey, not that kind of invitation. Come sit here with me and tell me what’s going on.”

“Oh, sorry, I was just getting into my jammies.” He said, air quotes around the word jammies.

“I will listen if you want to talk, but nothing more. Remember, who’s got two thumbs and a shit tonne of baggage...this gal.” I said pointing to myself. “Come on Clint, you can tell me anything.”

“Can I just, lay here with you for a while? I think I may have overshared enough for one night.”

I looked at him, he seemed so vulnerable and it hurt my heart. “Fine. Do you want to be big spoon, or little spoon?”

“Big spoon, please.”

I laid down and rolled over onto my side, scooting under the covers.

“Do you mind if I take off my jeans.”

“So long as you’re not going commando, have at ‘er.” 

He slid in under the covers next to me, wrapped his hand around my waist and pulled me close to him. It did feel really good. It had been so long since I’d laid next to anyone and Clint was warm and solid and smelled so good. For the first time in a long time I actually felt safe. I laid in his arms for I don’t know how long, I may even have fell asleep for a while.

I was half awake when he nuzzled his face into my neck, I shivered; he started to kiss my neck, his hand moved from my waist pushed up my shirt and began to lightly traced abstract patterns on my abdomen. He put one leg over mine, I could feel his length pressing against me, and he twisted my face to his, he brushed his lips against mine.

“Clint, stop. We can’t do this.” I said, pulling away from him. That was probably one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to say in my life. “You need to leave.”

I untangled myself from his limbs, got up off of the bed, and opened the door. Clint looked at me, his lips moving, like there was something else he wanted to say, but couldn’t find the words to match his thoughts. He walked over to me, put his hands on my hips, leaned down until his forehead was against mine and whispered

“Please.”

I couldn’t look at him, he seemed so broken. But hooking up with me wouldn’t fix this broken man, it could only make it worse.

“No, I’m sorry.” My voice broke as I said these words.

He slid his hands off of my hips, and left my room.


	8. Who Is She?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team is starting to catch on.

Clint was halfway to his room before he realized he had left both his pants and boots in Christina’s room, and he was at full mast. If anyone else came walking down this hallway, they’d be in for a sight; he made a mental note to delete the security footage the next morning. He debated on going back to get his discarded clothing, but decided he couldn’t handle the rejection again; they’d be there in the morning, after you left, he could get them then.

The thought of you leaving, it made him stop short in the hallway and brace himself against the wall. What was it about this woman that affected him so damn much? He’d never felt like this about anyone, ever, not even his ex. There was just this spark or glow or magnet that drew him to you. It was almost like how Loki had made him feel, unable to control himself, but better; without the evil, kill everyone, destroy the world vibe. 

Clint opened the door to his room, looked at the bed and knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep, not in his current state. He went into his bathroom, turned on the shower, stripped off his shirt and boxer briefs and climbed in the shower before the water was even warm. Maybe a cold shower would cool off the fire burning in him, the desire he had to wrap himself around you, bury himself inside and make you scream his name. He moaned at the thought of his name escaping from your lips; he reached down and stroked himself, imagining it was you clenched around him and not his hand. It didn’t take long for him to find his release, he came hard, shuddering, crying out your name in to the water that streamed over him.

He slept hard and woke late; by the time he made it into the kitchen, the rest of the team was assembled around the dining table.

“What’s everyone looking at?” Clint asked the four pairs of eyes staring at him.

“Who is she and where is she, Hawkeye?” Natasha asked in her do not fuck with me voice.

“Guys, I need coffee before we get into any deep philosophical discussions about who, versus where, versus what, versus how.” Clint said pouring an enormous mug of coffee and sitting down at the dining table.

“You brought a spy here and now she’s gone with who knows what information about SHIELD and our ops.”

“Nat, she’s not a spy, she’s a medic and I have no where Christina went, is she not still in her room?”

“Nope. Not in her room. But some of your clothes were. Care to explain?”

“We talked. I got more comfortable. NOTHING HAPPENED!” Clint shouted the last few words as Natasha’s eyes narrowed. There was no way he would be telling the entire group about his humiliation and rejection from the night before. Natasha, he’d tell her later, in private.

“Agent Barton, good morning” a full and deep voice said.

“Shit.” Clint turned and looked towards the newly opened elevator.

SHIELD Director Nick Fury, resplendent in a leather trench coat, walked into the room.

“Shit.”

“You already said that, Agent Barton. Do you have anything else to say for yourself?”

“Shit, fuck?” Clint ventured. It was never a good when Fury asked questions. It was even worse when he asked questions that you had no clue to what the answer may be.

“Agent Barton, you brought one Christina Crane into Stark Towers; some of our less trusting Avengers,” Fury side eyed Natasha, “felt it necessary run some deep background on your new…friend.”

Clint stood up from the dining table and moved to the breakfast bar, sat on a stool and slumped over, head on his hands.

“What did you find?” He asked, sound muffled by his arms. 

“Your new friend has a sealed file on DefenseNet, a file that when found by fingerprint search shut down my server for an hour. A file that is sealed above my level of clearance. Do you know what my level of clearance is, Agent Barton.? If you don’t, for the record, it’s very mother-fucking high. So, we dug a bit further, her file was not sealed by the US government, but by the World Security Council. Then we dug some more, and you know what you find when you dig this much, Agent Barton?”

Clint sat up and stared at Fury, trying to keep his face neutral and not betray the fear that was creeping up inside of him.

“Usually, we’d find dirt. But what we found, what we found was nothing. NOTHING. So, I ask you, what kind of person has a World Security Council file and no dirt on them?”

“An innocent person with nothing to…” Clint started to say but was cut off by Natasha.

“No, Hawkeye, not an innocent person with nothing to hide. She’s a spy, with a fake back story that you fell for.”

“Clint, it does seem a bit suspicious.” Steve ventured. “A woman, who from what I understand, is just your type, with no verifiable life history, comes along just after you spent the greater part of a week working for Loki and convinces you to let her stay here…it raises a few flags.”

“Not to mention she’s a well vetted surgeon, paramedic and from our digging, we found that she has written several papers on nano-molecular regeneration.” Bruce added. “It’s a lot for one person to accomplish by her age and begs that more questions should be asked.”

“Says the guy with 6 PhDs.” Clint said, finally having enough. “First, I was not ‘working’ for Loki. Second, she’s not a spy, I would know, I just would. Remember, I used to be a spy and there’s no way she is.” He pushed his hands back through his hair, making it stick up in all directions. “What does it matter anyway? She’s gone and not coming back. So just let it go. Fuck this, I’m out” Clint stood up, violently pushing the stool aside with such force that it fell over and crashed to the floor.

“Agent Barton, that is enough.” Fury said. “We have enough evidence that a person entered this facility under a presumable alias, and may be aiming to gather information on this team and SHIELD for purposes unknown. Your new mission, is to find her and bring her in for intensive questioning. Is that understood?”

Clint stood, jaw clenched, hands in fists.

“I’ll find her.” Natasha said, “Hawkeye should sit this one out.”

“Absolutely not. You are not going any where near her with out supervision.” Clint said through clenched teeth.

“Then suit up.” Natasha turned and walked off towards her own room to prepare. "Oh, and I already saw the security footage." She said turning back to Clint. 

Clint walked around the breakfast bar and followed Natasha down the hallway.

“Captain Rogers, Stark, Dr. Banner, I’m going to ask that you keep digging, find out what you can about this woman. Start simple, social media, Facebook, Twitter, you know the drill…well Captain Rogers, you may not, but you’ll learn.” Fury said, acknowledging the look of confusion on Steve’s face. “Widow is out for blood; she wants to protect Barton. I want you men to try to find a happy ending to this. God knows that man deserves one after what he’s been through.”

“Uhhh, just for the record, I have seven PhDs…” Bruce said as everyone got up to leave.

“Well, Dr. Banner, go put them to use.” Fury said turning his back on the group, heading to the elevators.


	9. Stakeout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The spies sit and wait

Natasha and Clint left Stark Towers, not dressed as Avengers, but regular New York City citizens. Natasha was wearing black skinny jeans, a red tank top and black leather jacket. Clint a pair of lose fitting jeans, an oversized Knicks hoodie and a Browning snap back hat. They did what they were best at, blending in. Not a single person on the streets realized that the two people walking by them had just saved the city not more than four days before.

“So, Barton what’s the plan?” Natasha asked.

“Back to calling me Barton. So, you’re only slightly pissed at me then.” It was Clint when he was injured, Barton when she was mad, and Hawkeye when she was furious.

“I’m not mad at you. Ok, I’m mad at you, but only because you’re being an idiot. Picking up a random woman isn’t the way to make yourself feel better about what happened. And even if it is, take her back to her place and don’t use your real name. I understand the need to,” Natasha paused trying to find the right words, “…the need to find a physical release to improve one’s mental health. But at least be smart about it.”

Clint stopped at the hot dog vendor on the corner and got a dog and Coke, ignoring the face that Natasha made as he slathered it in mustard. There was always time for a New York City street dog.

“As much as I wanted to find physical release with Christina, she turned me down, hard. I told her how I felt, and how much I needed her, and she pushed me away. She actually said she had too much baggage and would be bad for me.” Clint snorted a laugh, “bad, for me, of all people, can you believe that?”

“Yeah, I can. We don’t know who this woman really is and what her deal is. As for you, past history not withstanding, you’re a catch Clint, you just have to get out of your own head.”

“I think I’d rather live in my own head for a while, just until I know it’s really still me in here.”

“Living inside your head, how frightening.”

“Nah, it’s fun in here, we have pizza and cake and cute puppies, exploding arrows…it’s like Christmas.” 

“Are you going to tell me what you meant when you said you told her how you felt?”

“I thought I was falling in love with her; it’s dumb, I know.” Clint finished his dog, downed the rest of his soda and threw the wrapper and can in the bin.

“Come on Clint, let’s go find your mystery date, and interrogate the fuck out of her.” Natasha wrapped her arm around his waist and tucked herself under his arm.

They walked in companionable silence to the hall that Christina worked out of, they found a vantage point in a diner across the street. They arrived before noon, and watched as Christina arrived at work, greeted by everyone of her co-workers with high fives, fist bumps or hugs. 

“Well, she’s certainly popular. How long is she on shift for?” Natasha asked.

“Until midnight. Think Fury would care if I got drunk?”

“I can’t speak for Fury, but I certainly would. Remember Havana? You were not a lot of help.”

“I wasn’t drunk in Havana, I was hungover. Big difference.”

Natasha rolled her eyes and took a sip of her tea. “So, we sit here for 12 hours and watch her go in and out and in and out in her ambulance. Then what? Any idea where she’s going to stay?”

“We could always follow the ambulance…”

“No. I never wanted to be a lawyer.”

“What?” Clint said, clearly confused.

“Ambulance chaser…it’s a lawyer joke…anyway, do you think she’d go back to her apartment?”

“It’s condemned, she won’t.”

“What if it’s not condemned anymore? We call her, pretend to be the building super, tell her the building is no longer condemned and she can go home. All we need to do is sit and wait.”

“And then what, when we find her. What are we classifying as intensive interrogation?”

“Whatever it takes to find the truth.”

Clint sighed, resigned that this was going to happen with or without him. “Make the call.”

Ten cups of coffee, three cups of tea, nine ambulance runs and eleven hours later, Clint and Natasha were at Christina’s apartment. Natasha had called Fury and laid out their plan and through the wonders that were SHIELD, the building was repaired just enough to hopefully convince Christina that it was in fact safe to go home again. A nameless SHIELD agent made the call informing her that her building was ready for her to move back in.

“This has got to be the coziest apartment I have ever been in.” Clint said, standing at the peninsula that divided the kitchen from the sleeping area and living area.

“By cozy, you mean small right? My bathroom at Stark’s is bigger than this whole place.”

“Sure small, but it has a cozy, homey feel, doesn’t it? It definitely doesn’t seem like a crash pad that a spy would use.”

Clint wandered through the apartment, his calloused hands touching everything he could, trying to feel out the woman who lived here. There were books, so many books, everything from medical textbooks to Harry Potter; a hand made multi colour rag rug was on the floor in front of the love seat; a chunky throw blanket over the back; there were no pictures of her or her family, but lots of landscapes and bird pictures…even one of a Red Tailed Hawk; Clint smiled and touched the frame on that one.

Natasha, on the other hand, was systematically going through every cupboard and drawer, looking for evidence of who you really were. There was a tiny desk in one corner, with diplomas hung above it, Natasha pulled each one down, looked behind the frame and inspected each diploma.

“Nat, she’s going to be home soon. Her shift was done at midnight and it’s only about a half hour walk for her to get home.”

They turned off the lights and settled in to wait.

The sound of a key in the lock alerted the two spies that their prey was home.

I opened the door to my apartment, it wasn’t much, but it was good to be back on home turf. I flicked the light switch just inside the door and threw my duffle on the ground.

Something was wrong, you know that feeling when you’re home alone, but can feel eyes on you, I had that big time. I did a quick scan, and saw nothing amiss. I went to the bathroom door to double check, that’s really the only hiding place available in a studio apartment. I opened the door and nothing.

I shook my head, chastising myself for being so paranoid…until I felt the barrel of a gun in the small of my back.

“Where were you hiding?” I asked, looking over my shoulder into the eyes of the Black Widow, not Natasha Romanov, but the actual fucking Black fucking Widow.

“A good spy never reveals her secrets, now does she?”

“I really wouldn’t know, I’m not a spy. Are you going to kill me? Is this because I wouldn’t sleep with Clint?”

“NO, this is not because you wouldn’t sleep with me.” Clint said appearing literally from nowhere.

“But…but…where...where the hell did you come from. Seriously, I’ve got like 300 square feet, there is no place to hide. You guys would kick ass at hide and seek.”

“Let’s focus on the matter at hand, shall we.” Widow said, pulling my arm behind my back, like a cop would before cuffing you. She dragged me to the love seat and forced me to sit. Her gun now trained on my chest. “You have a sealed DefenseNet file, you are going to tell us what is in that file and what you are doing spying on us.”

“Before I can tell you anything, you’re going to need to answer a few of my questions.”

“Christina, just tell us what we need to know, then we can leave and be done with this.” Clint said, avoiding looking at you.

“I can’t answer your questions, primarily because I don’t have a clue what DefenseNet is, nor why you would think I’m spying on you. How about you guys go back to your tower of power, and I’ll just stay here in my little tiny studio, and we never have to see each other again.”

Wow, the thought of never seeing Clint again, really hit me hard, like a sucker punch to the gut. Fortunately, the feeling didn’t distract me enough not to see Widow’s gun come swinging towards my face. I don’t know how what happen next happened, but it did.

I grabbed Widows wrist, before the gun made contact with my jaw, and twisted. She dropped the gun, but used her standing leverage to pull me to my feet and try to get me on the floor. I kicked out, catching her mid thigh, forcing her away. We grappled with each other, I was stronger, but she was definitely more bendy. I got her on the floor, arms behind her back, one of my legs holding down her legs, the other on her neck. 

“What the hell are you doing?” I asked, panting from the exertion. I took a deep breath, and then everything went black.


	10. Tower Sweet Tower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christina gives in

“Are you sure that you guys shouldn’t have brought her to the SHIELD HQ?” Bruce asked.

Clint had explained in great detail the fight between Natasha and Christina and how he finally ended it with a knock out arrow to the small of your back. He had been impressed, and very turned on by the moves that you used to subdue Natasha; but also incredibly disheartened. Where had you learned how to fight like that, able to go blow for blow with one of SHIELD’s best.

“No, I want her here, we need answers with out SHEILD bureaucracy. Are we just waiting on Fury?” Natasha said entering the room.

The team had gathered in the bowels of Stark Tower, peering through one-way glass at the woman before them. She was secured to a chair, blindfolded and sedated.

“Why does Stark have a police interrogation room in his basement?” Steve asked, facing the glass arms crossed over his chest.

“Ahhh my innocent little Capsicle, one must be prepared for all proclivities of the fairer sex.” Tony said walking into the room, carrying a large bag of gummy bears.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

“What he means, Captain Rogers,” Fury said striding into the room, “is that some of his lady companions like to play cops and robbers and he plays along.”

“That is something I didn’t need to know about you, or your lady friends, Tony.”

“Gentlemen, what did you find out about guest?” Fury asked, looking at Steve, Bruce and Tony each in turn.

“Well, let me tell you, Ahab…” Tony started.

“Ahab, had one leg, Stark, not one eye.” Fury interrupted.

“Hmm, I’ll have to work on that one…Anyway, what we found is that this little minx here, is more interesting than we originally thought. And to think, I wanted her to be surgeon extraordinaire to the Avengers. Tsk, tsk.”

“What did you find, Stark.”

“Through official channels, we couldn’t find anything other than her school records, job applications, formal licenses and research papers, as we knew yesterday. Then Dr. Banner here, possibly because he has two brains working on his side, remembered that Barton picked her up in a bar, so we went on an adventure. A few drinks later, our new friend Billy, who, by the way, refused to sell me his bar, told us all about Ms. Christina Crane, or at least what he knew.

"She arrived in New York about three months ago, and started frequenting his bar and one day he heard her on the phone say to someone, ‘don’t ever call me Nova again.’ So he asked why she goes by Nova, and her response was that it’s because she’s always new in town.

“We did a search with every variation of her name with and with out adding in ‘Nova’ and found this…”

Tony laid out a file on the table, it was a Facebook picture from about 6 years ago, a picture of Christina, in a wedding dress, with an unknown man in a tux.

“It’s from a third or fourth party connection, a distance friend of a friend. It says on the caption, ‘Much happiness to the new Herons. You’re love is like a super nova’…Yeah, whoever wrote the caption does not know the difference between possessive your and you are you’re.”

Clint came out of the shadow he had been hovering in to look at the picture, “she’s married?”

“She did say she had baggage, didn’t she?” Natasha grabbed at the picture. “Who’s the groom, he’s hot.”

“We think his name is Jamie, however, unlike Christina, who has records, this guy doesn’t seem to exist in the world.”

“It’s time to go in. Who’s going to do the honours?” Fury asked the room.

“I’m going in.” Clint grabbed the picture and walked in, not giving anyone a chance to stop him.

The blindfold was pulled from my eyes, I blinked groggily into the stupidly bright lights. I think I may have been drugged, everything felt heavy and slow.

“Hi Clint, what’s going on?”

“Who is this guy?” He said holding up the wedding photo.

I looked at the picture for a long time, trying to keep the lump in my throat from developing into anything more, I would not cry anymore over that man. “I thought I got rid of all of those, where did you find it?”

“Stark and Banner found it, they searched your name and Nova, this popped up with a caption.”

“Burn it.”

“Who is he.”

“Baggage.”

“Who is he.”

“Nun-ya”

“Who is he.”

“Do you remember the movie Austin Powers, umm Goldmember?” Clint stared at me and raised one eyebrow. “Ok, so, Will Ferrell’s character, he had to answer any question you asked him, if you asked him the same question three times. Just so you know, I don’t have that quirk.”

“That was the Spy Who Shagged Me, not Goldmember.”

“Oh, oops.”

“Who is he?”

“Did you guys drug me? I don’t feel quite right.”

“Who is he?”

“Oh, for fucks sake, Clint. He’s my husband,” I watched Clint’s shoulders sag at the words and had to finish my explanation. “but he he’s dead now.”

“Five times, and you answer the question, good to know.”

“Screw you Barton.” Great, I was crying. Why even bother hiding the secrets of my past, I was free and clear of any legal issues—emotional was a different story altogether.

“Christina, I’m sorry.” He reached out and wiped the tear from my cheek.

“Uncuff me and I’ll tell you everything.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Then we are going to be here for a very long time.”

He turned and walked out the door. Where was I? The room looked like a police interrogation room from a bad 80’s movie. Steel table and chairs, buzzing fluorescent lights, and a one-way mirror.

“Hey guys? Whomever, is on the other side of the mirror, I assume you can hear me. Seriously, uncuff me and I will tell you everything I can. I won’t run, Natasha can even keep a gun on me if it makes you feel better.”

It was Fury who walked in through the door. “Tell me one thing, and if I believe you, we’ll talk somewhere more comfortable.”

“I killed my husband.”

Fury looked me up and down, then stared into my eyes with his one good one. “Alright, lets go.”

“Aren’t you going to uncuff me?”

“You and I both know you were out of those cuffs five minutes ago.”

I brought my hand out in front of me, cuffs dangling off of one wrist. “Zip ties work much better, harder to get out of.”

“Consider breaking out of cuffs one of our spy vetting tests.”

“Fair enough. Where to?”

Fury lead me to the elevators, the rest of the Avengers team trailing behind, then crowding around me. I tired to catch Clint’s eye, but he wouldn’t look at me.

I thought we were going up to the residential floors that I had seen earlier, but we stopped two or three floors below. The elevator opened up to a spacious conference room. It had everything, a giant conference table with a hole in the middle like a doughnut, a wall with a giant map, rows of computers; smaller work stations and conferencing areas.

We didn’t sit at the giant table, but rather one of the smaller work spaces.

“Talk, tell us everything.” Fury said nodding in my direction.

“Fine. But could we order a pizza or something first? I’m starving.”

“JARVIS!”

“Yes, Mr. Stark, the standard pizza order?”

“Yes, please and have them rush it; I’m starving too.”


	11. Christina's Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christina's backstory starts.

As it turned out, the standard Avengers pizza order was 8 deep dish with a variety of toppings. I was able to snag a few pieces of pepperoni before Clint and Steve inhaled two of the pizzas, each. Tony had gone up to the accommodations level and came back down with a case of beer.

“Stark, don’t think that you’re going to be drinking during an official SHIELD interrogation.” Fury said, eyeing the case of beer.

“My roof, my rules; and, and if this were an official interrogation, we’d be in DC at the SHIELD headquarters, not in my Super Bowl viewing room.”

“This is where you watch the Super Bowl? That’s awesome!” I said around a mouth full of pizza.

“Ms. Crane, you have been sufficiently fed and watered. Time to talk.” Fury said leaning back in his chair.

“I have one condition.”

“You don’t get to set conditions Ms. Crane.”

“One. Condition. Please hold all questions and comments until the end, it’ll be easier to get through.”

“We’ll do our best. Now, Ms. Crane, please begin.”

I pulled my hair back trying to put it up into a pony or a bun, I think better with my hair up. But of course, no hair tie. Until one came zinging across the table and hit me square in the chest. I threw my hair up into a messy bun, gave a nod of thanks to Natasha, and started my story.

“I was in my first year of med school, we were going over genetic typing and DNA analysis. We drew each others blood to do basic typing, a few marker checks, just the basics, no fancy genetic stuff, we were just med students. Three days later, there was a knock on my door, two suits were standing there, Jamie was one of them. Apparently, all blood drawn at medical schools is run through some central database, and mine rang some bells. They told me I was enhanced, and I didn’t even know it.”

A chorus of “what’s?” ran around the table; I held up my hands asking for silence.

“At the time, I had no idea what enhanced meant. But they sat me down and explained it, something in my genes gives me a special ability that 99% of the population does not have. I think I asked them if that meant I could fly or move things with my mind and if so, when these powers were going to kick in. I thought they were full of shit, or a prank from the senior class.

“It took them three days and a dozen blood tests to prove to me that they weren’t fucking with me. They weren’t sure what my abilities were, since they weren’t obvious. Not gonna’ lie, but I may have tried to light one of them on fire with my mind…it didn’t work. They offered me a position at Central, kind of a covert government agency…it’s a bit hard to explain.”

“It’s the Canadian equivalent of SHIELD. Quite a few countries used to have their own version.” Fury said and motioned for me to continue.

“Thank you. So, they offered me a position at Central, and I took it. They paid for me to finish medical school, got me a residency and trained me to be a damn fine surgeon. But the powers they said I have never manifested. Along with my medical training, I was trained in infiltration, hand to hand combat, weapons, you know standard spy stuff.”

“So much for not being a spy.” Clint muttered.

“I’m not a spy, I may have been in the past, but I’m not anymore and haven’t been for a while. And besides, I was horrible at it.” I said glaring at him. “Anyway, I was assigned a handler, Jamie. I was good at fitting in, people just seemed to naturally trust me. It took a while, but we finally realized that was my power; I’m an empath. I can convey desired emotions on to my targets, alter my targets emotions, get them to tell me anything. Fortunately, my abilities are not on all the time, I have to make a concentrated effort to alter feelings and emotions. The downside, I soon found out, was screwing with other people’s emotions, screwed with mine; when I changes someone from happy to sad, I gave them my happy and took their sad, and I’d just fill up with the wrong emotions. And Jamie tried to help.”

“I bet he did.” Natasha growled; nostrils flared.

“Yeah, I guess you know the type. I was young and stupid, I know how stupid that sounds, but I fell for him. He was smart, and strong and gorgeous. He didn’t hit on me or show any signs that he was interested in me; he would just urge me to keep trying and do my best. He would hold me when it got to be to much and all I could do was cry; he’d try to calm me when I got too angry and started spiraling. I thought he really cared.” I finished, with a whisper.

I stood up and walked around the table, trying to get a hold of my emotions before they got the better of me.

“Ma’am, if you need to take a break, you can.” Steve said starting to get up from his chair.

“No, I just need a moment. Thank you.” I took a deep breath, pulled off my glasses rubbed my hands over my face and continued the saga that was my life.

“My mark was a major arms dealer, or so I had been told. I was supposed to get close to him and get him to give up his sources and his bank roll. I did my job and I did it well, but what I didn’t know is that he was more than just and arms dealer and I was bait.

“Jamie had been telling me just enough to make me think I knew what was going on and what the plan was. It’s hard to believe I was that fucking stupid. The majority of the time, I got the public cover story, I was a tool being used by Central to get what they wanted.

“This arms dealer, also worked for a pseudo-Nazi wanna-bes and they knew who I was and what I could do.”

“Was it Hydra?” Steve asked.

“Yes, it was. You’ve heard of them?”

“I’ve tangoed with a few of them, finish your back story before we get into mine.”

“I was captured. Tortured. Raped.”

At that Clint stood up, throwing his chair aside and stormed off to the other side of the room.

“Any-hoo,” I continued, watching Clint as he walked away. “That’s when I found out what else I could do. The anger had been building in me, I tried to use my abilities to get my captors on my side, but they had drugged me with something and I just couldn’t get them to work. The night that the most brutal of them came into my cell, I exploded.

“I don’t mean I figuratively exploded, I literally exploded. Some form of energy, or ball of emotional power exploded from me and, ummm, incinerated—I guess that’s the right word—the goon. He had left the door unlocked, so I ran. I got lucky, all the doors were unlocked and not a single guard to block my way; I actually thought it was luck and not designed. I got outside the compound and kept running. I ended up in some little Eastern Block town and somehow Jamie was there waiting for me.

“I believed every word he said. That he’d been searching for me and had tracked me here, that he was scared that’d he’d never find me. When I debriefed at Central, I told them about dusting the guy, one of the techs said I had built up so much energy I had gone super Nova. And that’s the story of how I got my handle. Three months later, Jamie asked me to marry him and I accepted.

“Where is the nearest bathroom?” I asked, I needed a minute to collect my self before I could go any farther with my story. I’d already told the easy part, the next would make these people never want to see me again, lock me back in the basement, never to be seen again.

Tony pointed to a set of doors on the North wall. I looked around the room on my way to them, I stopped and did a quick spin around. Where had Clint gone? I hadn’t even seen him leave. Natasha caught me looking a bit stunned, smirked and pointed up, towards the rafters.


	12. Confessions of a Killer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christina's confessions continue

I ran water over the inside of my wrists, splashed some on my face and braced myself on the lip of the basin. I took deep breaths trying to calm myself. I couldn’t allow myself to get too emotional, to risk losing control. That never worked out well for anyone in the vicinity.

I didn’t even hear her come in behind me and started when I looked up in the mirror and saw here standing behind me.

“Gah!! What the hell woman, you scared me.” I said clutching my chest.

“You must really have been a bad spy; I wasn’t even trying to be quiet. Look, I’m just here to check on you. My personal feelings for you and concern for Barton aside, I know how hard it is to recover and then have to bare your soul to virtual strangers.”

“I’ll be o.k, thanks for checking on me.”

Natasha squeezed my shoulder, nodded and turned to leave the room.

“Wait, Natasha…?”

“Yes?”

“Why is Clint in the ceiling?”

Natasha sighed, “when things get tough for Barton, he goes high. He wants a good vantage point, one where he can still see and hear everything and get to trouble quick; but one that keeps him at a distance, it’s his defense mechanism. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be near you, it’s more that he wants to be in a position to protect you from all angles.”

“Oh, well that’s only a bit odd for this group, I suppose.”

“Tell me, have you been screwing with his feelings? Making him feel like he loves you, or wants you?”

“Of course not. I refuse to do that to anyone, ever again. Anything he thinks he feels for me, it’s all him. But don’t worry, he won’t feel that way for much longer.”

I walked out of the bathroom, ready to tell part two of my life story.

“We kept our engagement secret for almost six months, long enough for me to get a new handler since fraternization among handler and handle-ee was frowned upon by Central. We were married a few days later, all of his friends and family were there, just my parents because he said we already had to many people coming. 

“After the wedding, Jamie stopped calling me by my first name and only ever referred to me as Nova, in public, in private, in bed, it was always Nova. He convinced me that it was my fault I got captured, that I wanted it to happen, that I was terrible at my job.

“He broke me down to nothing, I see now that it was a severely abusive relationship, even though he never hit me; well not until later on.” I wrapped my arms around my chest and sunk into one of the chairs at the table. I was starting to shake, never a good sign.

Someone grabbed one of my hands and held it; I opened my eyes. It was Bruce, looking at me with a steady gaze.

“You are strong enough to control what is in you.”

I nodded and continued, Bruce still holding my hand. “As you may all have guessed, Jamie wasn’t a good guy.”

“No shit.” Came from somewhere overhead.

“Jamie was a traitor, a double agent asshat who worked for Hydra. While we were married, he convinced me to get as much information on Centrals operations as possible. He said he thought there was a mole inside and was trying to find out who it was. Only a select few people knew what I could do, so it was easy for me to work my magic. I gave his so much information and he fed it straight to Hydra.

“I am ashamed to admit this went on for almost two years. I found out later that Central knew there was a traitor in the ranks, but were reluctant to act until they had more evidence, and Jamie was careful. What finally brought him down…it was my fault again. I had been feeling unwell for a few weeks, I thought it was just the exertion from toying with people’s emotions. Nope, I was pregnant.”

“Oh, God.” Bruce said squeezing my hand.

“I went home thinking Jamie would be exited, thrilled, it was everything I had ever wanted. Sure, we had never talked about having kids, but we had never talked about getting married either. It just happened. I told him; he backhanded me across the face, so hard I fell and hit my head on the corner of the wall. Called me a cheating, fucking cunt, asked who I’d been out whoring for. I couldn’t run, I couldn’t move, I was terrified. He kicked me, twice, hard, in the stomach and left me there on the floor.

“I thought I was dying, or maybe hoped I was dying. A phone was ringing somewhere nearby, he had forgotten his cell phone when he left. I pulled myself up, thinking it was Central and I could ask whoever was calling to send help; I’d come up with a reason for my injuries later. It wasn’t his Central issued cell phone; it was a phone I’d never seen before. I answered it anyway. It was some German guy giving instructions on what info he wanted next. Jamie came back into the room and saw me with the phone, he ripped it out of my hands and pulled his gun.”

I paused to wipe away the tears that were streaming from my eyes. Bruce reached into his pocket and of all things, handed me a real handkerchief.

“Don’t worry, it’s clean.”

“Thanks.” I sniffled. “So, Jamie pulled his gun on me and that’s the last thing I remember until waking up in a Central medical bay a week later. Apparently, I had gone super nova again and not only incinerated Jamie, but also a whole city block. Central covered the whole thing up, gas line explosion or something. They erased Jamie completely from history, I guess my file was just sealed. I was sent to an isolation area up North until they deemed that I was safe to be around people again. They gave me a shit-tonne of money, called it an insurance settlement, probably so I wouldn’t go whistle blower or sue or some shit. And then released me back into the world.

“I got low, I killed sixteen people, fifteen of whom didn’t deserve to die, one of them my own child. It’s all I could think about. I was hiding out trying to figure out the best way to die. I was sitting on the floor, debating the pros and cons of pills or a bullet when I heard screaming, a kid screaming. I was out my door and, in the street, before I even realized I had moved. A local kid had been hit by a car and was dying in the street. My medical training kicked in; I saved the kids life. And that’s when I decided dying wouldn’t ease my conscious. I committed myself to saving lives, I worked at a trauma centre for a bit, but it was being a medic that I found really helped. I could give people comfort and aid when they were most afraid and in need of help. So that’s what I’ve been doing ever since. I know it’s selfish that I’m only helping people to ease my mind, but I guess it’s better than the alternative.

“So that’s the story of me. I mean, most of it, I left out my youth soccer and high school academic triathlete history, but it didn’t really seem relevant. Any questions?”

I looked around the table at all the Avengers remaining; a mix of shock and what I deemed to be disgust on their faces. Fury was giving me a dead eye stare and nodded at Bruce.

“Come on, let’s go.” Bruce grabbed my hand and lead me to the elevators.


	13. Monsters Within

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce offers comfort

“Is this where you bring me someplace where you can kill me? How’d you draw the short straw?” I asked Bruce as we entered the elevator.

“Do you know who I am?” He asked me.

“Of course, your Dr. Bruce Banner, PhD in Bio-chem, Nuclear physics…”

“No, that that. Do you know who I am, on the inside?”

“Um, the Hulk?”

“Exactly, the Hulk. I have this thing inside me that I have difficulty controlling. I almost killed the woman I loved, another time I destroyed Harlem, not just a block, but essentially all of Harlem. I’ve killed more people, destroyed more property than everyone on the team combined, but I still go on, and they still work with me…and maybe even respect me. I found a way to control the monster within, and so can you. This team can help you.”

“Bruce, this team doesn’t want me around. You saw their faces; they were disgusted with what I’ve done.”

“You’re wrong, they weren’t disgusted, they were angry…and sad. I’m bringing you to your room and we’ll talk to the team in the morning.”

“Can’t I just go back to my apartment? Pleeeaasee?”

“It’s still under construction. Hawkeye and Natasha kind of fudge the repair to lure you into going home so they could, um, capture you.”

‘See, I’m a shitty spy.” I said leaning against the elevator wall and thunking my head against it.

We arrived on the accommodations level; Bruce walked me to my room.

“We can control the monsters within us if we try. If you decide to stick around, or ever need to talk, or well, I’ve developed a pretty good sedative for when I’m having a hard time coping, I know how you feel, probably better than most. If you need anything at all, come find me, or ask JARVIS to send me your way.”

I gave him a half smile and opened the door to went into the room that was apparently mine. “Bruce…?” I called after him. He turned and looked at me. “What was her name?’

“Betty.”

“Is she ok?”

“She made it. She…she teaches at Culver University. She’s doing ok.”

“Thank you.” I turned away and went into my room.

My green duffle was at the foot of the bed, someone must have grabbed it from my apartment. The items I had thrown in were still there, along with a few new changes of clothes and by some miracle my favorite sleep pants and shirt.

I showered, pulled on my jammies and flopped onto the bed. 

It was dark when I opened my eyes, I must have fallen asleep. I sat up, reached over and turned on the bedside lamp.

“Ahhhh, gah! What are you doing in here?” I shouted, realizing I was not alone. Clint was sitting in the oversize arm chair, legs propped up on my bed.

“I let myself in. I wanted to ask you a few questions, but you were sleeping and I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Well I’m awake now and think I’m having palpitations. My heart can’t take you guys sneaking up on me anymore.” I ran my fingers through my hair, and sat up, pulling a blanket over my shoulders.

“I decided my questions weren’t important.”

“Then why are you still here? I told you I had too much baggage and now you know what that entails, I won’t take it personally when you leave.”

“I was going to ask you why you thought any of the things that have happened in your past would make me want you less. But then I decided the question didn’t matter and I’d just show you that it didn’t matter to me.”

“Come on Clint! You’d never be able to trust your feelings around me; you’d think I was screwing with them all the time. I could kill you and I don’t know how to stop.” I flopped back onto the bed, exasperated that this man was still in my room, but none-the-less a bit hopeful that he may really like me.

Clint pulled his legs off of the bed and climbed on. He kneeled over me, his arms on either side of my waist to steady himself his face inches from mine.

“What makes you think I care? I’ve done the same, if not worse. You know I’ve had someone else fucking around in my head, when I’m with you, I know it’s just me up in here, no one thinks the same way I do. Christina, I don’t care about your past. I want to be a part of your future.”

“The last time I was with someone, I got screwed up. Emotionally, physically and mentally. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to be with anyone again.”

“We’ll go slow. I won’t hurt you; I’ll take care of you; we can figure this out. I’ve never wanted anyone more than I want you. Please.”

I reached my arms up, wrapping them around his neck, moving my hands up, running my fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes, a soft sigh escaping from his lips.

“I’m going to kiss you now, Christina.”

“Good.” 

He moved forward, brushed his lips against mine. I gasped and pulled him to me, he lost his balance and fell on top of me. He adjusted himself so not all of his weight was on me.

“Are you sure?” He asked me.

“We’ll go slow.” I answered.

He kissed me, softly, his lips barely touching mine. One of his hands was behind my neck, keeping me close, the other moving from my waist to my hip and back again. He trailed soft kisses along my jaw and down my neck.

I moved to wrap my legs around him and

“Ow” I said.

“What, what is it? What did I do?” Clint said pulling away from me.

I giggled and said, “I kicked your boot, it kind of hurt.”

“Oh, damn, hang on.”

He pulled himself off of me and got up off of the bed.

“Well don’t leave just ‘cause I stubbed my toe.”

“I’m not going anywhere; I’m just getting more comfortable.” He reached down and pulled off his boots, throwing them into the corner of the room. He grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. I swear time stopped; I’d never seen anything sexier than Clint Barton removing his shirt. His arms flexed and then his abs and then he was shirtless his hair sticking up in all directions. He dropped his pants to the floor and was standing before me in just his boxer briefs.

He gave a shy and shrugged, as if to say ‘this is me.’

I got up and kneeled on the bed my hands tracing the lines of his abs, moving up over his chest to his arms. He had so many scars, evidence of the sacrifices he’s made. I moved my hands up to his neck and around behind his head, pulling him back to me.

“What are these?” I whispered feeling a small lump behind each ear.

“Um, hearing aids.”

I pulled back and raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’m pretty much deaf. I used to have bigger aids, but SHIELD developed smaller ones that are, um, more comfortable. It’s not really a big deal.”

He leaned forward and captured my lips in his, and slid me back onto the bed until I was resting on the pillows, he started his slow torture again, kissing and licking along my neck. He reached down and grabbed my shirt, pulling it over my head. He kissed along my now exposed collar bone, and nipped at the sensitive flesh. 

One hand was on my hip, holding me down, the other was cupping my breast, his rough hand squeezing and groping, his fingers rolling my nipple between them. He moved his head down and flicked his tongue against my other nipple.

I arched my back and moaned, trying to move my hips against him. He chuckled and pushed down harder on my hips, keeping me still. “Stay still, baby,” he murmured, looking up at me through his lashes. He sucked hard on one and pinched on the other.

“Clint, please…so good.” I breathed, still trying to move my hips.

“I said stay still.” He moved, putting one of his legs between mine, using his weight to hold me down. I could feel his erection pressed against me.

I felt my orgasm building, every flick of his tongue and pinch, and then I was there. He bit down and twisted at the same time and sent me or the edge. I bucked my hips, driving myself against him, my hands tangled in his hair, pulling as I called his name, coming apart underneath of him.

I fell back on the pillows panting, throwing my arm over my eyes. “I didn’t know that could happen.” I said as Clint moved up lay beside me. I rolled onto my side to face him, putting my arm around his waist, I leaned in and kissed him gently and started to work my hand down to his erection.

“No.” He said, grabbing my wrist and pulling my hand back up to his waist. “We’re taking it slow; and tonight, is all about you.”

“But, what about your, um, situation?”

He laughed, pulling me tighter against him. “Don’t you worry about me.”

I feel asleep in his arms, I woke a bit later to the sound of the shower running, felt a bit guilty, but the exhaustion from the stress of the day and a mind-blowing orgasm, soon had me deep asleep again.


	14. Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christina makes breakfast

I woke up the next morning, alone. Which confused and saddened me, until I rolled over onto a piece of paper. It was a note from Clint.

_SHIELD business. Be back soon. C_

I stretched like a cat, reaching around and looking for my phone. Shit, it was Friday, how did that happen. Ok, the battle was on Friday, I left the hospital and went to the bar on Saturday, stayed at Stark Towers overnight Saturday and Sunday, worked Monday until midnight…Clint and Natasha took me early Tuesday morning, so how was it Friday? If I told my story late Tuesday, or even Wednesday, what happened to Thursday?

I threw on a pair of jeans and a shirt, which I realized was Clint’s shirt from the night before. Oh well, everyone was out on SHEILD business, who’s going to know. I padded down the hallway into the kitchen and found Bruce, Steve and Tony huddled around the breakfast bar.

“Oh, I thought everyone was out on SHIELD business, I assumed I was alone.”

“Cap, the Big Guy and I don’t technically work for SHIELD, we’re more freelancers called in to help from time to time. Hawkass and Widow are the only two on SHIELD payroll. Is that Barton’s shirt?”

Bruce peered around the pantry door, “nah, can’t be it has sleeves.”

“Ha, ha, very funny. But he does seem to have a lot of sleeveless shirts, doesn’t he? What are you guys up to?”

“We’re foraging.” Steve said, pulling a carton of milk out of the fridge, putting it next to the cereal Bruce had just put on the counter.

“You guys are having cereal for breakfast? That’s dull. Do you want me to make you guys pancakes or something?”

“Really, you’d do that. What’s the catch?” Tony asked.

“Nothing, I just don’t want cereal for breakfast and it’d be rude to make something for myself and not for everyone else.”

“We’re in Nova.”

“Don’t call me that Stark.”

“I’m taking it back, giving it a new, positive meaning.”

“Ok, pancakes it is.” Deciding not to acknowledge Stark. “Do you want bacon or anything else?” I asked rummaging around to find what I needed.

“Bacon.”

“Sausage.”

“Yes.”

“Ok, so pancakes and all the breakfast meat. If one of you wants to put on some coffee, I’ll have this ready in about twenty minutes.”

I found the bacon and sausage, already defrosted, considered only cooking half, but threw it all in the oven, it’d get eaten.

“Hey, guys, is it really Friday? I seem to have misplaced Thursday somewhere along the line, and possibly Wednesday.” I asked as I broke the eggs into a large bowl and started whisking them.

“Yes, it is. The stunner arrow that Barton hit you with may have been a bit too strong. It knocked you out for the remainder of Tuesday and most of Wednesday.” Steve explained as he pulled mugs from the cupboard.

“I’m sorry the what that Barton did what with?”

“I take it he didn’t tell you.”

“Of course he didn’t. You think she would have let him spend the night knowing that he stabbed her in the back with an arrow.” Tony said from the sofa.

“That’s enough from the peanut gallery, Stark.” I said shaking the whisk in his direction. Turning back to Steve I asked, “what does Stark mean Barton stabbed me in the back?”

“From what I understand you had Natasha pinned, Barton reacted and stunned you. It was completely non-lethal, but it totally knocked out your system longer than it should have. We still aren’t sure why, it may have something to do with your abilities.”

I put the bowl and whisk on the counter and felt down my back until I found a tender spot, just above my tail bone. I lifted up my shirt and spun around trying to see if I could see anything. “Is there a mark, can you see it?” I probably looked like an idiot, or a dog chasing its tail, or both, trying to look over my own shoulder to see the mark on my back.

Steve grabbed my shoulders to keep me from spinning anymore. He lifted up my shirt and said “oh.”

“What!?! Is it bad?!?” I said trying to spin around again. “I’m going to kill that asshole.”

“No, ma’am,” Steve said, getting very formal for some reason. “It’s not that bad, just a small mark, tiny really. I just didn’t realize you have a tattoo there.”

"It's not that big of a deal, it was my first tattoo." It was a small red Maple Leaf, a bunch of my friends and I had all gotten them when we turned 18.

“HA! You have a tramp stamp!” Tony shouted vaulting over the back of the sofa. “Let me see.”

“What’s going on here?” An amused female voice asked from the elevators.

Natasha and Clint walked into the great room. I was leaning on the breakfast bar, Tony had my shirt up and he, Steve and Bruce were all looking at my back. Steve grabbed my shirt, pulled it down and stood back, looking slightly abashed.

“Oh, nothing.” I said, “they were just admiring the hole in my back that some asshat put there with an arrow.”

“You found out about that, huh?” Clint said, reaching up and scratching the back of his head.

I glared at him and turned back to my pancake batter. “You’re on my shit list Barton.” 

As I poured the batter on to the hot griddle, I started to smell something funny. “Who’s bleeding?” I asked turning around.

Everyone looked at me like I was crazy. “Come on, I can smell the blood, who’s bleeding?”

“You can’t smell blood.” Bruce said.

“Sure, you can, it smells like copper, or maybe iron, depends on the person…it’s metallic and wet smelling. Now come on, who’s bleeding?”

“I am. I have a small wound on my arm, it’s dressed, it’s not that bad.” Natasha said coming to look at the pancakes. “Any chance you could add some chocolate chips to some of those?”

“Absolutely, if you let me look at your arm after breakfast.”

She eyed me up and down, reached out, shook my hand and said, “deal.”

We ate breakfast with little talk, Natasha and Clint had been up early and were starving. Tony, Bruce and Steve apparently just ate a lot. I ate my fill and brought my plate to the skin.

“Am I free to go, or and I trapped here?” I asked to the group at the table.

“Why? Where do you need to go?” Clint asked with a mouth full of pancake.

“Don’t talk with your mouthful, it’s rude. Or, you could choke and I’m not so inclined to Heimlich you anytime soon. I need to go to work and beg forgiveness. I’ve missed at least two shifts and I really don’t want to get fired.”

“Let’s go to medical, we can talk there.” Natasha said getting up from the table and motioning for me to follow.

We walked down the corridor that I had yet to explore. Instead of private rooms, the walls were mostly glass, showing an array of computers and other equipment.

“These are Bruce and Tony’s private labs. We have bigger research and development facilities on other floors where Stark employees work. Up here, Bruce and Tony do whatever it is they do, it gets noisy from time to time.” Natasha shot me a quick smile.

We stopped outside of a room with an airlock and I followed Natasha inside.

“This is our private medical bay. Bruce is a pretty good doctor; but it’s not his favourite pass time. He takes care of most of our injuries, Clint and I get banged up more than the rest, probably because we are only human.”

“You guys are more than human, you keep up with Super Soldiers, iron men and mythological gods. I’d say that’s pretty damn super. Let me see your arm.”

Natasha sat on the edge of the examination table and pulled off her shirt, so she was only in her tank top. I looked at her arm, there was a six-inch gash going from the lower deltoid down to the brachialis.

“What cut you? The edges seem cauterized, but the centre is still weeping fluid and blood.”

“It’s not a cut, I was shot with a plasma gun.”

“What the fuck is a plasma gun, isn’t that some Star Trek shit?”

“Hydra technology. Bruce or Tony can explain it better. All I know is that it hurts like hell.”

“It very much looks painful. Do you want a local to numb it before I start stitching?”

Natasha looked uncertain, like she wanted to say no and be strong, but also in pain and wanting it to go away.

“I won’t tell the boys, I promise.” I said holding up the syringe with the anesthetic and wiggling it in her face.

She nodded. I numbed the area around the wound, cleaned it out and started stitching.

“You guys weren’t gone that long, how did you find the time to get shot, where did you go?”

“We left not long after you fell asleep, as to where we went, I can’t tell you, it’s classified.”

“So, you know Clint was in my room last night, huh?”

“SHIELD is going to try to recruit you.” Natasha said as an answer.

“What?” I gasped, looking up from my stitch.

“Fury made some calls, pulled some strings so you won’t be reprimanded for missing shifts and you have the next two weeks off. He wouldn’t do that unless he wants something from you.”

“What would you do, if you were me?”

“I was you. I was an assassin, and a damn good one. I wasn’t enhanced, but I still killed people, only by choice. A lot like you, I was broken down, but they built me back up to be a killer. I got on SHIELDs radar and they sent Hawkeye to neutralize me. He made a different decision and recruited me. SHIELD definitely helped me, but it was probably more Clint’s doing than theirs. He made sure that I always felt safe and that I had a place to go when I needed someone.”

I wiped my stitches with Betadine and wrapped Natasha’s arm in a clean dressing. “Not that it’s any of my business, but were you and Clint ever…”

“No, never. I’m not going to lie to you and say it’s never crossed my mind. Have you seen that man’s abs? I mean damn. But no, nothing ever happened between us. I love him, and would do anything to protect him, which is why I’m going to be keeping a close eye on you.”

I put my tools in the autoclave and began wiping down the surfaces with disinfectant.

“So, do you think I should join SHIELD.”

“If you join, it may give you a bigger purpose. Saving lives, one life at a time, is noble and wonderful and you should be proud of yourself and the work you do. But SHEILD, can help you find a way to save a life before it is even in danger. Effect change from the inside, right? You coming?” She asked standing at the air lock.

“No, I’m going to clean up a bit first and get to know this area a bit better, especially if I’m going to be here for the next two weeks.”

I laid on the examination table, staring up at the overhead light. If SHIELD tried to recruit me, what would I say. Did I want to be a pawn for another government agency? Or would it be better this time because I had allies going in. Allies. Huh, I guess I was really starting to trust this group.

“Christina,” it was Clint. “You ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, just pondering my future.”

“Does your future include staying here by any chance?”

“Seeing as how my apartment is not fixed and I have no where else to go, I guess I’ll be hanging around here. At least until I can find somewhere else.”

“Are you still mad at me?”

I looked at him, not understanding.

“Um, for poking you with an arrow.”

“Oh, that, yah, still mad.”

“What can I do to make it better?”

“Come here and kiss me.”

He was at my side before I finished my sentence.


	15. I Knew You Were Gay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coming out

Over the next three days, I explored Stark towers, thinking of myself as a modern-day Rapunzel, except with brown shoulder length hair and the freedom to come and go as I please. Meh, I was going to stick with my Disney reference, it made breaking into song from time to time much more acceptable.

Clint had essentially moved into my room. I asked why we didn’t just rotate between both rooms, and he said it was because his was too messy. I stuck my head in there one morning, just out of curiosity, and he was not wrong. All drawers and doors were open, clothing and shoes were strewn about, mixed in with a variety of arrows and bows.

Life seemed to be going well; the only thing I was missing was my partner and best friend. I tried calling Eric several times, no answer. I tried texting Eric, no response. I was starting to get worried, so I called the station a couple of times, the Duty Chief finally told me he was off for a few personal days. Now I was really worried.

“Ohhh, Clint, yes…yes, that’s…right there, yes. Clint!” I shouted his name as I came hard against his fingers. He was behind me, two fingers inside me, his thumb pushing against my clit. I did have to admit, the man was good with his hands and I was definitely having fun, but I wanted more, I wanted to please him and show him how I felt. He slipped his fingers out of me, once I stopped clenching around them.

“Baby, you taste so sweet.” He said as he licked his fingers clean.

“I want to touch you, Clint, I want to make you feel good.” He still wouldn’t let me give him pleasure, saying he wanted me to be fully comfortable and trust him completely before we went any farther.

“You do make me feel good,” He said pushing his erection against my ass.

“Then why won’t you let me do something about it?” I rolled over to face him. “The first night I stayed here, you would have been in my pants with out a second thought.”

“I know, but this means so much more now, we know more about each other. I want to make sure you’re ready for something more. I love being with you, I love sleeping next to you, waking up beside you. You’ve been hurt, and so have I and I don’t want to screw this up. I can’t not touch you; I don’t have the strength to stop myself. Consider it my penance, not taking my pleasure in you.”

“Your penance is my punishment. I want to please you as badly as you want to please me. Clint, I need you, and I want you, I need you in…”

“Don’t say it. I’m not ready, I want everything to be perfect.”

“Life is never going to be perfect, not for us.”

“But we can get close.” He said, pulling me close to him, my head on his chest. “Have you made up your mind about SHIELD?”

“I’m scared. If I say yes, they may use me for their own nefarious purposes. If I say no, they may force me to join anyway. It’s six months of training, six months in DC, away from you. And then who knows what will happen? I could get shipped who knows where and never see you again.”

“I promise, that would never happen, I would never let them use you. And no matter where they send you, I would find you.”

We fell asleep, wrapped in each others warmth.

I was in the gym the next day sparring with Natasha. The day I had pinned her in my apartment, was just a ruse to find out my skill level. If she had actually been trying, I wouldn’t have stood a chance. It actually made me feel a bit better that the infamous Black Widow could kick my ass.

“Ms. Crane,” a voice called from overhead.

I looked around, confused, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from.

“Christina, it’s JARVIS.” Natasha said, and then swept my feet out from underneath of me. “Never loose focus.”

“Right JARVIS…what’s up JARVIS?” I called laying flat on my back.

“Ms. Crane, there is an Eric Sullivan requesting to see you.”

“ERIC!?! ERIC’s here, let him in, let him in, let him in.” I flopped over to my stomach and pushed my self to my feet and ran out of the gym towards the elevators.

“Ms. Crane, Mr. Sullivan does not have clearance to enter Stark towers accommodation level.”

I skidded around a corner and smacked up against the breakfast bar in the kitchen.

“Ow. Shit. What do you mean he doesn’t have clearance? I didn’t have clearance and you let me in?”

“You were with Agent Barton and he has clearance to allow in guests.”

“Well how the hell do I get clearance to let some one in?”

“Who are you shouting at?” Steve asked, peering around the room.

“The world’s most annoying butler. Eric is here but _I_ don’t have _clearance_ to let him in.”

“Who’s Eric?” Steve asked.

“Eric Sullivan. My partner, he’s been off the grid for like three days and now he’s here. I need to see him. Please, Steve can you help?” I was bouncing with anxiety.

“JARVIS, please let Mr. Sullivan in, I will vouch for him.”

“Thank you, Steve!” I said giving him a quick kiss on the cheek and rushing to the elevators. I was jumping from foot to foot, waiting on the doors to open. And there he was. My Eric.

He stepped out of the elevators and into the great room and I jumped into his arms.

“Where have you been, I’ve been calling and texting, Chiefy said you were on personal leave. Where were you, I was so worried?” I sobbed into his shoulder.

“Worried about me? You disappear for two days and then suddenly go off for two weeks? I though you caught the PTSD and were going to do something stupid. Every time I called you it went right to voice mail and your texts bounced back. I went by your apartment, which is fixed now, by the way; but you weren’t there. I figured I’d look for you here since this is the last place you said you were. And here you are. Hanging out with Captain America.” Eric said looking over my shoulder.

“Oh, yes, Steve, this is Eric Sullivan, my partner. Eric this is Captain Steven Rogers.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Steve said, reaching out a hand to Eric.

“Likewise.”

I pulled Eric away from Steve and dragged him to the breakfast bar, sat him down and pulled a couple of beers from the fridge, cracking one for each of us. “Oh, Steve, did you want a beer?” I said as an afterthought.

“No, thank you, I’ll just go and let you two catch up. You will call for me if you need anything.”

“Yes, sir.” I said rolling my eyes at him.

“So, you know Captain America now. That’s so cool.” Eric said.

“Who cares who I do or do not know now. Where have you been?”

“I dumped Erin and she kind of fucked up my life. And, just so you know I’m blaming you because you haven’t been around to help.”

“YOU DUMPED THE THUNDER CUNT?!?! That’s awesome, I’m so happy for you.” I jumped up and hugged him again.

“Who’s the new guy?” I heard Tony ask from behind me.

“It’s Christina’s partner, Eric.” Steve answered. "We are trying to give them privacy, Tony. What’s a thunder cunt?” I heard him ask Tony as they walked out of the room.

“You’ll learn when you’re older Cap.”

“You know what, we’re not going to get any privacy here, this whole place is wired. Let’s go out and get a drink and you can tell me the whole story of how you dumped the bitch. I’ve just got to go change.” I realized I was still wearing my gym shorts and ratty tank.

I ran to my room, did a quick wash, threw on a pair of jeans, a tee and some flip flops and was back in the kitchen in four minutes flat. Four minutes was apparently too long to leave Eric unattended. Tony had made his way back to the breakfast bar and was eyeing up Eric, Natasha had come in from the gym and was industriously texting on her phone, not looking very pleased.

“Come on, let’s go.” I grabbed Eric’s arm and dragged him to the elevators.

We got out into the fresh air, walked a few blocks and ducked into a tiny bar.

“Tell me everything.” I said sitting in a booth facing the door. I had made Eric sit with his back to the door. It seems old spy habits die hard.

“Her crazy stalker tendencies finally got to me. And, she’d been cheating on me with multiple persons, running up my credit cards and destroying what little credit I had. Oh also, Erin cloned my phone and had been going through all of my calls and texts and everything. I figured it out when I tried to call my phone from the station phone and my phone didn’t ring, and Erin answered.”

“Well that explains why I haven’t heard from you in a week. How long ago did you ditch the bitch?”

“Three days.”

“Three days, that’s perfect, you should be all cried out and somewhat emotionally stable. I’m taking you out tonight my friend, we are getting wasted and getting you laid.”

“Before we get into my sex life, let’s talk about yours.”

“I don’t have a sex life.”

“Really, girl. You’re glowing. If you haven’t been getting laid for the past days, you definitely got a new toy.”

“Fine. I’ve kind of been seeing the archer guy.”

“You are fucking Robin Hood! You vixen.”

“No, we haven’t had sex. And his handle is Hawkeye, but his name is Clint. I think I already told you that.”

“Wait, you’re seeing Hawkguy…”

“Hawkeye.”

“Whatev’s. Your seeing Hawkeye, probably for the past week, you’re glowing, but now look so sad. Spill, I need details.”

“He’s really good to me, he knows about my ex, so he’s up to date on my baggage; and he’s a professional archer, so he is _very good_ with his hands.” I had previously told Eric a sanitized version of my past, just the big stuff, it was nice to have someone to talk to and bitch with.

“Then why are you so sad?”

“He won’t let me touch him, or have sex with me. I don’t get it.” I thunked my head down on the table. “I’ve thrown myself at him, he’s shared my bed for the past week, but nothing! What’s wrong with me.”

“Oh, honey, no.” Eric said, sliding around and coming to sit next to me. “There is nothing wrong with you. If he knows your baggage and what that douche of an ex did to you, he probably just doesn’t want to scare you away.” Eric slipped his arms around me and pulled me into a hug.

“Maybe. But I’m starting to think he may not actually want me.”

“Any man with eyes would want you.”

“I missed you Eric.”

“I have something to tell you.”

“You’re gay.”

“Wait. No. What? I mean, yes. Yes, I’m gay, but how did you know? I kind of wanted to have a dramatic coming out moment here.”

“Eric, you’re my best friend, I love you dearly. Over the past three months I’ve watched you _fall in love_ and move in with four different women, each one more horrible than the last. You’ve been trying to keep up appearances with out having to make connections. Also, and I’m totally stereotyping here, so forgive me, but you throw like a girl and run like one too. Ohhhhh, and, once you went ‘hey, gurl’ to me with accompanying jazz hands.”

“Do you care.”

“Not a fucking bit. Although, this news will change our partying venue for the evening. I don’t know many gay bars…ok, here’s the plan. You said my apartment is fixed right?”

“Yea.”

“We go to my place, get all fancied and slutted up, then find the sloppiest gay bar with the hottest guys and get you some.”

“Before we go to all that trouble, are any of your new friend’s gay, or even curious, by any chance. Perhaps a certain Captain America?”

“Sorry dude, no.”

We finished our drinks and went back to my apartment, and thank goodness it was actually fixed, not just sneaky spy fixed.

“Why is all of your stuff here Eric?” I opened the door to my apartment and all of Eric’s worldly possessions were strewn about.

“Erin had the lease on our place, so I grabbed my clothes and important shit and got the fuck out. I used your emergency only key to get in, I figured this was a pretty big emergency.”

“You know you can stay as long as you need.”

We got ready for our night on the town. I grabbed my slim leather clutch, and realized I had left my ID at Stark towers.

“Shit, I need to go back to the Tower, all of my cards are in my room there.”

“No, problem. Can you walk that far in those shoes, or do we need an Uber?”

I looked down at my thigh high lace up stilettos and said, “Uber.”


	16. What the Hell Are You Wearing?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint's a jerk.

We got out of the Uber a block before Stark Towers; I didn’t want a chatty Uber driver asking too many questions.

“Shit, I hope I have clearance to get up to my room without having to ask someone to come down to get us.”

“Why, are you not allowed to come and go as you want? Are you some modern-day Rapunzel?”

“I made the same analogy today!”

“Did you break into song?”

“Of course!”

“What song?”

“Part of Your World.”

“A fine choice.”

I punched the up button for the lobby elevator and thankfully the doors opened.

“Umm, JARVIS, are you there?”

“Yes, Ms. Crane. How may I help you?”

“Can we go up to the accommodations level, please?”

“Of course. Shall I inform the team of your arrival and that you have Mr. Sullivan with you?”

“NO. No, thank you JARVIS. I just need to get in and out of my room quick.”

“Very well.”

“Who the hell is JARVIS?”

“Some kind of AI butler that Tony developed. He’s pretty handy, he can order pizza for you at three in the morning.”

“Nice.”

“Ok, so before we get to The Ritz, I have a few questions. First, have you ever dated a guy before?”

“Yea, I was totally gay all through college.”

“Why did you try to change? You know what, we’ll get back to that one later. More importantly, have you ever sucked dick before? Or do you need some pointers.”

I hadn’t realized that our conversation was timed so the elevator doors opened just in time for everyone to hear the last question I asked. The elevator doors had opened and the entire team, sans Clint, was in the great room, and had turned to see who was coming in to the room. Bruce and Steve were sitting at the breakfast bar--did they ever stop eating--forks frozen halfway to their faces. Natasha’s brows were so high they almost disappeared into her hair and for the first time in the short period of time I had known him, Tony Stark was speechless.

“Oh, girly, I’ve sucked more dick than you. Now let’s get your shit before we scandalize these fine folks any more.”

“Right, wait here, I’ll be right back.”

I ran to my room, or the closest thing I could get to running in these shoes. I grabbed my card holder out of my duffel and trotted back into the great room.

“Yeah, so I dumped my girlfriend, came out as gay and so Christina and I are going clubbing. You’re more than welcome to join us” Eric said, trailing a finger up Steve’s arm. Steve ever the trooper, ever the soldier only looking mildly uncomfortable at the attention. I wondered if he had any gay friends growing up in the 30's and 40's.

“Ok, that’s enough, you’ve been gay for all of five minutes, no hitting on my friends yet.” I said, grabbing Eric and pulling him away from Steve, “let’s get out of here before Clint…”

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU WEARING!?!?!”

“…shows up. Fuck.”

It wasn’t really that bad, the dress I mean. It was a dark purple, corseted bodycon dress with a black lace overlay. The boots, may have been a bit much, but it was Eric’s night and he had final approval on all apparel.

“A dress and some boots. Why?” I said turning on my heel, flipping my hair.

“I think we should go.” Bruce said, making to stand and leave. Tony grabbed his arm and pulled him down.

“We are not leaving; we are watching this unfold.”

“No, a dress goes farther than your…your ass. You’re all exposed. Where’s the rest?” He asked, waving his arms in my general direction.

“Clint, Eric and I are going out tonight, this is what I’m wearing. Deal with it.”

“Who the fuck is Eric?!?”

“Seriously? Eric. My partner. The guy who I’ve been worried about for the past week. Have you listened to nothing I’ve been saying over the past three days? Eric. This guy right here.” I fumed, pointing a thumb over my shoulder.

Eric gave a little finger wave from by the elevator.

“You’re not wearing that.”

“Bye, Clint.” I strode over to the elevators and slammed my palm onto the down button.

“Christina.” He grabbed my arm and turned me to face him.

“I strongly suggest you let go of me right the fuck now, you know what I can do when I get pissed off.”

The elevator doors opened, Eric and I stepped in side. I glared at Clint until the doors blocked him from my view.

“I like him, he seems feisty.”

“Yeah, he’s alright. I probably should have been nicer to him. Meh, fuck it. I look good in this dress and we’re out for you tonight, not me.”

“Where are they going? Where did they say they were going?” Clint said spinning away from the elevator doors.

No one said anything.

“They must have said something. Come on guys, where are they going?” Silence. “JARVIS! Did they say where they are going?” Clint shouted into the room.

“JARVIS, don’t answer that.” Tony said.

“What the fuck Tony?”

“Clint, don’t you think you’re over reacting? The guy just broke up with his girlfriend so they’re going dancing and for drinks.”

“The fucker is single and going out with my girl and I’m over reacting?”

“You do know he is, what’s the word that we use now?” Steve said looking for some help.

“Gay, he’s gay.” Natasha chimed in. “You are overreacting, and you shouldn’t have grabbed her.”

“She could have at least told me that she was going out.”

“Ok, fair. Yes, she could have told you she was going out with her best friend who she hasn’t seen since you two started fooling around. But you don’t get to lay claim to her and keep her from her friends. That’s what an abusive asshole would do. You know that, right? Don't start doing shit that will remind her of her ex.” Natasha walked over to Clint and put her hands in his. “If you're allowed to have a best friend who is a woman--a straight woman--she can have a best friend who is a gay guy. Why don’t you and I go out, have a drink, she’ll be home to you soon.”

Clint let Natasha lead him into the elevator and into the night.

I was having a blast dancing with Eric; I had missed hanging out with this man. Our goal had been to get him laid, but we ended up talking and drinking and dancing until four in the morning. We ended up back at my place because there was no way we were stumbling back into Stark Towers this late (early?) in the state we were in.

“Is your man going to be pissed you didn’t go home to him?” Eric asked.

“Don’t know, too drunk to care. Help me get my boots off.”

Clint was watching from the roof across the street. He and Natasha had gone for a couple of drinks, he had ditched her in the bar when she went to the washroom. He was half expecting her to show up next to him any moment. His fist clenched around his bow as this boy put his hands on his woman, removing the scandalous boots she was wearing. At least she had gone into the bathroom to remove the scrap of fabric she had called a dress. When he saw her in that dress, he almost combusted and took her right there in front of everyone. Then he saw the kid behind her, waiting for her by the elevator and he saw red. He’d lost his wife, not even been given a chance to fight for her. There was no way he was losing Christina to some boy.

He saw her come out of the bathroom in a baggy pair of sweats, and one of his shirts. His heart did a flip when he realized she had been stealing his clothes. She had been threatening to because she said she loved the way he smelled, apparently, she had made good on her threat.

The boy was wearing a ratty old shirt and his boxers, but was lounging on her bed like he owned it. Christina threw a pillow at him and made him move to one side of the bed. Then she crawled in beside him. It took every ounce of self control Clint had not to crash through the window then and there. Clint needed to know what they were saying, but they were too far away for him to read their lips, even with his scope and they kept turning away from him.

Clint shot an arrow, just above the lintel of the window, it had a built in listening device and now he could hear what they were saying.

“You’re leaving the department?” Eric asked.

“Thinking about it; it’s six months of training and then I’d work for the government.”

“Is this because of arrow boy?”

“Yes and no. He works for the government, I’d be working for the same agency, but in a different capacity. This job may help me right some wrongs in my past. Kill off some demons and such.”

“Do you love him.”

“Very much so.”

“Does he love you?”

“I have no idea.”

“If you go, you’ll be gone for our birthday.”

“I’ll make sure I can get the weekend off to celebrate; I wouldn’t miss our birthday for anything.”

“It’ll be the last birthday we ever celebrate.”

“Eric, what do you mean? I’m not making some weird birthday suicide pact with you.”

“No. It’s our 29th birthday, the last number we ever share in public.”

“You are so fucking gay.”

“And you, love me.”

“That I do. Now go to sleep, I need rest to deal with this shit storm I’m going to walk into tomorrow.”

Clint took a step back from the edge of the roof. “29? You’ve got to be shitting me.”

"Where did you get a bow Clint?" A voice said from the dark shadows behind him.

"I always hide a spare or two around town for emergencies."

"This is a total invasion of her privacy."

"Did you know she's only 28?"

"Yes, didn't you read her file?"

"No, I wanted to know her for her, not her file."

"Then why does her age matter."

"It just does." Clint said, turning away from her window.


	17. It's a Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint asks Christina on a date.

I strolled into Stark towers the next day, a little after noon, Eric and I had gone for drunch—drunken brunch; we needed a bit of the hair of the dog. After bringing Eric back to my apartment, and ensuring he had plenty of fluids and my WIFI password, I figured I should make my way to see how much shit I was in; Clint did seem a bit upset last night. Also, I needed to rip that man a new one.

“Good afternoon, JARVIS!” I said entering the elevator.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Crane. Accommodations level?”

“Take me to whatever floor Agent Barton is on.”

Clint was in one of the specialty training rooms designed for target practice. I walked in and threw the arrow I had in my coat pocket at him.

“What the hell?” He turned around and looked at me. “Oh, hi. Did you have fun last night with Eric?” He asked, his eyes narrowing.

“Why don’t you tell me. I found that out side my window this morning. I believe it’s one of yours, and that little wired thingy is a listening device. You were spying on me; kind of sloppy work.” I didn’t phrase it as a question, since I already knew the answer.

“I was looking out for you. I don’t know this kid you were going out with. And you didn’t even tell me you were going out. I walk into the kitchen and you’re standing there in what you call a dress and I call a handkerchief and a pair of come-fuck-me shoes and plan on going out with a guy I don’t even know? Yeah, I spied on you a bit. I was worried.”

“You don’t need to know my friends or all the details of my plans, you just need to trust me, and if you can’t we need to re-evaluate whatever is going on between us.” I said pointing back and forth between him and me.

“The last woman I trusted, she ripped my heart out and stomped on it.” Clint said, throwing his bow. It broke.

“I’m nothing like your ex, just like you are nothing like mine. I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you. All past history aside, I’m still allowed to go out with my friends, you still need to trust me. I don’t freak out every time you and Natasha leave together because I trust you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re only twenty-eight?”

“What does my age have to do with any of this?”

“Because maybe if you were more grown up you would think about how what you do affects the people who love you!” Clint shouted.

“Really. You’re going to say that _I’m_ immature. I’ve been middle age since I was thirteen. I got a job and was paying my way in life since fourteen. I graduated medical school when I was 20, married at 22—ok bad example, let’s take that one back. You shouldn’t care how old I am, because I don’t give a flying rats ass how old you are Clint.” I was actively choosing to ignore the fact that he implied he loved me.

“Do you know how much older than you I am?”

“No. And, as previously stated, I don’t care.”

“I’m forty-one. I’m more than ten years older than you.”

“That explains why you had an issue with what I was wearing last night. Steve must have had a coronary, he’s what ninety? What’s your middle name”

“Francis, why?” Clint answered, taken slightly aback at the abrupt change in topic.

I walked closer to Clint and put my arms around his waist. “What’s really bothering you Clint? I can’t get on board with you thinking that I’m immature; especially, especially compared to you of all people Clinton Francis Barton. Maker of fart and boner jokes. Hider of whoopie cushions and fake spiders.”

Clint pulled away, scrubbed his hands over his face and then through his hair. “You just middle named me.”

“Yes, I did, that’s how serious I am.”

“I’m too old for you. You’re still young and have a chance at a normal life, getting involved with me…with who I am and what I do, who I work for, it destroys any chance you have of getting that life.”

“In what world do I want a normal life? Do you really expect me to end up with an accountant, a lawyer, a suit? Come on, Clint, you know my history, a normal life would put me in an early grave, from boredom. I need some excitement and some drama, but I also need someone who I can trust and who can take care of me. I want that person to be you.” I put my hands back around him and kissed him softly on the lips. “You really don’t care how old I am, do you?”

“I just don’t want you to feel like you are trapped with me.”

“I don’t.”

“Do you care about my age, at all?"”

“Not at all. In fact, when I was nineteen, my boyfriend was thirty-four. You are well within my age bracket.”

“We’re not going to be talking about that guy any time soon.” Clint said pushing me to arms length and looked me up and down. “You need to tell me when you are going out, so I won’t worry.”

“I will do my best to give you advanced notice of any plans that don’t include you; but I will not ask your permission and you will not spy on me.”

“I suppose I can live with those conditions.”

“Good.” I kissed him again, drawing myself up against him. He was wearing his combat gear, a leather shirt with only one sleeve, low slung tac pants, and an array of arrows and weapons tucked in every strap and pocket. He looked sexy. There was no other word for it, sexy.

I ran my hands through his hair, he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me tight against him. He stopped suddenly, and I pouted, “aww, come on kiss me like you mean it, Clint.”

“Christina, I lov…” He whispered, but cut himself off suddenly. “Christina, I want to take you out. On a real date. Not just sitting around upstairs with the rest of the team, just us, someplace nice, some place fancy. Like what a normal couple would do.”

“Are you asking me out on our first date? You’ve already reached third base and you’ve got the signal to head on home; a date is not necessary.” I said moving my hands down to his hips.

“I want to do this right; I’m taking you on a date.”

“Ugh. Fine. Where are we going? What should I wear?”

“I don’t know where, yet, but wear something just a bit classier than last night. Not that there was anything wrong with your outfit last night.” He said quickly.

“Hmmm…” I said putting my mouth right up against his ear, “classier, eh. No crotchless panties then?”

Clint groaned, bucking his hips against mine, “woman, you are going to be the death of me.”

“That’s not a no.”

He turned his head and pulled on my earlobe with his teeth and said, “just make the wrapper classy and what ever candy centre you have, I will find.”

I pulled back from him, kissed him once more, “it’s a date then. What time are you picking me up?”

“Oh, shit, I dunno? Just let JARVIS know and I’ll swing by your room. For time, whenever you’re ready, I guess.”

“No, no. No, no, no. We’re going on a real date? You’re picking me up at my place, not my crash pad. I don’t have any pretty clothes here, anyway.”

“Fine. I’ll pick you up at your apartment at…seven. Should I be expecting the third degree from Eric?”

“He works the six pm tonight until six am tomorrow. We’ve got all night, just the two of us.” I dropped him a wink, let go of hips and sashayed away.

“Hang on!”

I turned back to Clint, “what?” I asked.

“You weren’t wearing, um, the um, things you just mentioned, last night. Were you?”

“Ha, no. I’m not even sure I own any, anymore. However,” I glanced at my watch, “I’ve got time to pick some up. Anything else you need me to grab?”

Clint’s eyes widened and darkened. “Surprise me.”

“Oh, I will.” I winked and left the training room.

“Wait. What? Anymore?” Clint asked as the door shut behind me, his question echoing around the training room.

“Is everything with you and Clint alright?” A voice from behind me called. I turned to find Natasha walking towards me. “I told him spying on you wouldn’t help, but, if nothing else, he is determined.”

“We’re ok, or at least I think we will be. He asked me out, on a real date.” I couldn’t hide it; I was a bit giddy at the thought of my first real date in years.

“Really? What are you going to wear? Not what you had on last night?”

“No, I think I need to go shopping. Find something half decent, still pretty, but less slutty, to wear.”

“I am coming with you.”

“Oh, Natasha, you don’t need to come with me, I’ll be ok on my own.”

“I’ve known Clint a hell of a lot longer than you, I know what he likes to look at. I’ve got your back on this.”

“Well I expect this shopping trip to be incredibly awkward.”

Natasha and I ended up at a high-end vintage dress shop in Hell’s Kitchen. Natasha stuffed me into a dressing room and began throwing dresses at me.

“No, to frumpy. Oh no, to slouchy. Nope, to slutty. Ugh, to Grandma’s curtains.” For every outfit I showed Natasha, she had a comment.

“I feel like a shitty version of the three bears here, can we try looking somewhere else?” I asked, leaving the dressing room in the ninth dress Natasha had tossed my way.

“No, we can’t. That’s it. That’s the dress.”

I hadn’t even looked at the dress I had put on before storming out of the dressing room. I looked in the mirror and asked, “are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure, it’s exactly what Clint will love.”

It was a full floral pattern fit and flare dress. It hugged my torso, perfectly accentuating my bust line, tight in the waist and then a pleated flare out to just above my knees.

“I look…cute.”

“You look like sex on two legs.”

“Wow, thanks, I think.”

“I’m serious. This is absolute femme fatale. You look innocent, but the way you carry yourself says ‘don’t fuck with me’. It’s perfect. Now, what are you wearing underneath.”

I felt a flush creeping up along my collar bone to my neck and into my face, remembering what I whispered in Clint’s ear before leaving the training room.

“Just what I thought. Get out of that dress, we have one more stop to make.”

If you’re one of those not easily embarrassed people, I highly suggest going into a sex shop with Natasha Romanov and having her pick out sexy time undergarments for you, with matching shoes.

“You know, if you plan on joining SHIELD, you’re going to need to be more comfortable in your own skin. You never know what situations you may end up in.” She said, pulling on her aviators as we left the sexy store and re-entered ‘normal’ society.

“I’m completely comfortable with everything in that shop. I’m just not sure I’m comfortable with you.” I responded.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re like Clint’s over protective older sister, but still younger. I want you to like me, but I know it doesn’t matter if you do or not because Clint likes me. Yet, I still want your approval and I don’t want to overshare with you because you are so close to him; but I also know you know a lot more about him…and his sex life…than I do. This is a weird line to be walking.”

“I’m not one hundred percent sold on you yet. But you’ve stuck out Clint’s crazy stalker tendencies, his morose self woe tirades and haven’t used any knowledge of his friends for your own benefit. So far, you are doing better than his last girlfriend, and his ex-wife, combined. Just don’t hurt him. You’re starting to grow on me; and it’s nice to have another woman to hang out with…I don’t want to have to kill you.”

I put down my shopping bag and wrapped my arms around Natasha, and gave her the biggest hug I could muster. “Thank you. Thank you for everything.”

“Anytime.” Was her response.

Natasha dropped me at my apartment, I went upstairs to get ready for what I though was going to be the most important date of my life.

Clint couldn’t focus, but he still never missed a target. He stayed in the training room longer than he intended, trying to get the thought of Christina and crotchless panties out of his mind. At about five he packed up and went to his sty of a room to prepare for what he thought was going to be the most important date of his life.

He was going to tell her he loved her. He was going to make love to her; finally giving in to his urges. He knew they were ready, especially if she said she loved him too. That was the tipping point, if she said she loved him back, everything would be perfect. His only concern was the actual making love part. He hadn’t been with anyone since his before Laura had left him. He never missed a target, but was afraid of a quick-fire situation.

Clint had been half hard since Christina walked into the training room, and he wasn’t getting any better anytime soon. He had planned on a quick shower, but thoughts of her kept slipping into his mind. He was leaning against the back of the shower, working his hand up and down his shaft, picturing her mouth on his cock, on her knees peering up at him. “Oh, yes baby, suck it.” He said to the emptiness around him. He stroked himself harder, faster, imagining her riding him, screaming his name. “Fuck. Yessss. Christina.” He moaned as he worked himself to completion.

He felt better now, knowing it would take longer for him to finish later, since he worked out the quick easy one already. Clint walked into his bedroom, naked, not bothering with a towel.

“Agent Barton, we need to talk.”

Suddenly, Clint felt very exposed.


	18. Wait. What are You Wearing?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint did not dress appropriately.

I was freshly showed and shaved, unsure of what Clint’s preferences may be. My new panties and bra slipped against my skin as I put them on. The new dress fit me perfectly, Natasha was right, I looked sexy, innocent and naughty all at once.

I poured myself a glass of wine to settle my nerves while I waited for Clint to arrive. He said he would be here at seven and it was almost time. He was probably the kind of guy that would wait in the hallway until exactly seven.

I jumped and sloshed my wine when I heard the knock at my door. _Get it together, girl._ I thought to myself. It’s just Clint Barton, here to take you out on a date and maybe finally fuck your brains out. I was going to tell him I loved him though, regardless of how the night went.

“What the hell are you wearing?” I asked. I wasn’t certain what he would be wearing when he arrived, but I definitely hadn’t been expecting this. Clint was wearing black and grey fatigue pants, a tactical duty belt and SHIELD polo shirt. “I get all fancied up and you show up in SHIELD gear.”

“You didn’t tell me you signed on, that you agreed to join SHIELD.”

“I was going to tell you tonight. I signed the paperwork, I should get my start date within the next three to six weeks, once my documents have been reviewed.” I said, reciting the phone message I had received earlier. “Would you like some wine before we go?”

“Or, you could get your start date within the next twenty-four hours and be expected at the SHIELD command training centre for six am tomorrow morning.”

“What the fuck are you saying, Clint?”

“You start as a SHIELD Cadet tomorrow morning. I have to drive you to DC. Tonight.”

“No. We have plans; we have a date. Just…just…no.”

“You don’t have a say, you signed the paper work. You’ve been assigned to start your training program tomorrow.”

I sat down, hard, on the love seat. “We’re not going on our date?”

“Why did you sign? Why did you sign and not tell me?” He was still standing in the door, fists clenched at his sides.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know this could happen, I thought we’d have some time together before I had to start.” I said dropping my face into my hands.

“Pack a bag, essentials only, and change your outfit.”

“You don’t like my dress?” I stood up and twirled around, letting my dress fan out around me. 

Clint closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and when he opened his eyes, was he staring somewhere about two feet above my head. “Please, just pack.”

I walked over to him, grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him into my apartment. “How long does it take to drive to DC?” I asked.

“Four hours, maybe, depending on traffic.”

“It’s only seven. If we leave now, that’ll get us to DC by eleven. That still leaves a whole hour left of today.” I nuzzled against his neck, pressing my body against his.

“Christina, I have orders to take you the training centre. I’m an Agent, you’re a cadet, nothing can happen between us, not until you graduate. It could ruin your career.”

“Fuck my career. I’m not waiting any longer to be with you.” Clint tried to pull away from me, but I held tight. “Look at me Clint.” I waited for him to look at me, when he did, I knew how hard this was for him too. The mix of desire and sadness in his eyes hurt my heart.

“I love you.”

“Christina, we can’t do this now…” He started.

“Let me finish, please. I love you Clint. It’s been a very long time since I’ve liked anyone, let alone loved someone. I know whatever this between us has moved fast, but I don’t care. I trust you with my life, I trust you with my heart. I love you and I don’t care if you love me back, it’d be pretty awesome if you did though. I will wait however long this stupid training is, if that’s what you want. But you need to know how I feel.”

He placed his hands on either side of my head, leaned down and kissed me softly. “I love you.” He whispered.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled his face to mine. I kissed him and held him tight. Our lips worked against each other fighting for control. I pushed my tongue against his lips until he let me in, I licked his lips and explored his mouth. He moaned and pushed me up against the wall. He slid his hands down my back and cupped my ass. He lifted me up, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. His hands slid up my legs, under my dress.

He stopped kissing me, pulled back, his pupils blown with desire. “You’re really wearing them; I can’t believe you’re really wearing them.” He said as he slid a finger inside of me, no fabric impeding his path.

My responding giggle was cut short, and became a low moan as he curled his finger, deep inside of me, pushing against my walls, looking for my special spot. He sucked a line along my neck and collar bone as he slid a second finger in side of me. I arched my back and thrust against his palm.

“Yes, that’s my girl, give it up for me, come for me baby.”

“Clint,” I panted, “there’s a bed. Right there. Take me to bed. Please.”

“If I’m getting in shit for not getting you to DC on time, as ordered, we are going to make it worth it. I am going to take my time with you, I am going to make you come with my fingers, with my mouth.”

He bit down on my shoulder, as I bucked my hips against his hand, clenching around his fingers, digging my nails into his back. “Oh Clint.” I sighed into his ear.

“I really do like this dress. It’s innocent and sexy, but I think it would look better on the floor.” He said carrying me towards the bed, on arm holding me against him, the other pulling down the zipper. He put me down on the bed and pulled the dress over my head.

“Oh, I like these.” He laid me back, admiring my cupless bralette and panties. “Everything is…is available to me.”

“You’re wearing too many clothes.” I said sitting up and putting my hands under his shirt. “It’s not fair.”

“Life’s not fair, but I’ll do my best to even it out.” He pulled off his shirt and threw it next to my dress.

He crawled on top of me and laid me back. He kissed my neck, down my sternum, his fingers teased my nipples. He kissed his way down, stopping and hovering over my clit. His breath hotter than my warmth, which seemed impossible because I thought I was going to burst into flames at any moment.

“Please. Please, don’t tease me.”

He flicked each nipple one last time and laid that arm across my hips; holding me down. He slipped his fingers back inside of me and swirled his tongue around my clit. Everything inside me clenched at once, I tried to say his name, but no sound came out. He alternated between licking and sucking my bud, pushing me down every time I tried to move my hips.

“Stay still, or I’ll have to tie you down.”

“Is that a threat, or a promise?”

“Both.” He pulled out his fingers, a whimper escaped from my lips. He pulsed his tongue against my folds and slowly slid it inside of me. “You taste so damn good.” He slid his fingers back inside of me and really started to move them, he sucked hard on my clit and then nipped it, that sent me over the edge. I came so hard I may have blacked out for a moment. When I opened my eyes, Clint was laying next to me, lightly stroking my arm.

“You ok?”

“Better than ok.”

I rolled over to him and kissed him, tasting myself on his lips.

“Why are you still wearing pants. They can’t be comfortable.”

He gave a small laugh, grinned and squirmed a bit.

“No, they certainly aren’t.” His smiled slipped, he looked at me very seriously and asked, “are you sure?”

“Clint, if you don’t take those pants off and let me touch you, I may die.” I ran my hand through his already messy hair and said, “I don’t just want you; I need you. I love you and I want to love you in every way I can.”

He undid his belt and fly and shimmied out of his pants and boxers. I sat up and straddled his thighs, taking in all of this gorgeous man before me. I ran my hands down his abs, along the iliac furrow, and gently stroked his erection. Clint sighed, closed his eyes and tipped his head back against the pillows.

“This is so much better than I imagined.”

“You’ve thought about this?” I asked, stroking harder and faster.

“So. Many. Times.” He gasped between breaths.

“Have you ever thought of this?” I slid down and ran my tongue along the underside, from base to tip. And suddenly I was on my back, Clint on top of me, his arms on either side of my head.

“Not that I want you to stop, but if you keep doing that, I won’t last. I want to be inside of you, I want to come with you, I want…”

“I want you to stop talking and take me.”

Clint aligned himself with my entrance and started to push his way inside of me.

I gasped, it had been so long, I forgot how good it felt, except, he stopped moving when I gasped.

“Are you ok?” He asked, concern etched on his face.

“Yes. It’s just been a while, go slow, I need to…adjust.”

He thrust his hips forward, slower this time, so achingly slowly, until he was buried inside. Clint leaned down and put his head on his forearm, he was taking deep, quick breaths. I rolled my hips, but he stopped me, placing his other hand on my hip, stilling me again.

“Don’t move, not yet. It’s been a while for me too.” He kissed me softly under my ear. “Just give me a moment.”

“Take as long as you need.”

I don’t know how long we laid together, joined, but not moving. I didn’t care, I was happy.

Then he was moving against me, rolling his hips against mine, his pelvic bone rubbing against my clit. It took a second to find our rhythm, but when we found it, it was as if we had been designed for each other; the way we fit together, the way we moved together. We picked up speed, going faster and harder. Clint was chanting in my ear, “…so tight…wet…good…yes…baby…I love you; I love you…” I was doing the same, “Clint…Clint…harder…yes…please…I love you; I love you.”

My orgasm was building, I was losing my rhythm, my body moving with out my brain telling it what to do. My fingers dug into his back, my legs around his hips, pulling him tighter to me. “I’m there, I’m going to, I’m going to…” I lost the ability to speak, my brain and body giving in to him.

“My. Name. Say. It.” He grunted.

“Clint, baby, yes, of fuck, yes…Clint!” I screamed, orgasming harder and longer than I though possible.

I felt him tense above me, his hand tightening on my hip…that was going to leave a mark. His pace slowed, pushing deeper into me, then he crashed his hips against mine.

“Fuck, oh God, oh fuck, baby, I’m coming.”

“Look at me.” I twisted his face to mine. His eyes were closed, but I wanted him to look at me when he came. I wanted him to see me and how much I loved him. He opened his eyes and looked into mine as he thrust once more against me, holding himself deep inside of me as he finally filled me.


	19. Are We There Yet?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Road trip

“Sweetie, wake up.”

“What?” I asked groggily, feeling around for my glasses.

“We fell asleep, you need to get up.”

I sat up and almost knocked Clint over, I didn’t realize he was that close to me.

He laughed and handed me my glasses.

“Are you awake now?”

“No. Why did you wake me up? I was having a very good, very sexy dream. And you were in it.”

“It wasn’t a dream.”

“OH!” The events of the previous few hours came rushing back to me. I threw my arms around Clint, kissing him hard on the lips.

“Come on, I can’t bring you to SHIELD smelling like sex. I’m in enough shit as it is already.”

I wrapped my self in a sheet and walked into my tiny bathroom, and noticed that the shower was wet and the mirror fogged.

“I take it you’re not going to join me.”

“I already showered. We’d never make it to DC if we got naked _and_ wet together.” He shrugged apologetically. “Do you want me to pack your bag? You’ll be wearing a uniform during your training so you won’t need much.”

“Sure, just some jammies, undies and comfy clothes, I guess. Oh, and my tooth and hair brushes and some hair ties, and flip flops…and a few books!”

“I’m going to need a bigger bag.” I heard Clint mutter as I closed the bathroom door.

I showered quickly, knowing my time with Clint was limited and I didn’t want to miss any.

“Hey,” Clint said poking his head in the bathroom. “I’ll put some clothes on the counter for you.”

“Thank you!”

I toweled off and got dressed.

“What time is it? Is there time for coffee?”

“It’s 4 am, we’re super late, so, no. You smell good.” He grabbed my duffel, and kissed the top of my head, it was incredibly sweet.

Clint tossed my bag into the back seat of a black four door sedan. “Hey, careful, my laptop is in there.”

“No. It’s not. You’re not allowed personal electronics. I left it on your desk.” He said opening the passenger door for me.

“Thank you, sir. Very chivalrous. I’m sorry we’re going to be late; I shouldn’t have seduced you.” I said as I slid into the passenger seat.

Clint snorted, “You didn’t seduce me, that was going to happen no matter how hard either of us tried to stop.” He reached over the centre console and grabbed my hand. “When we get to the training centre, all this, it has to stop. I’m not Clint any more. I’m Agent Barton, and you’re Cadet Crane. We can’t show any signs of affection.” He finished, kissing the back of my hand.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have picked one of your shirts for me to wear to my first day of school.” I said looking at the clothes he had picked out for me. A pair of denim capris, my purple chucks and… "Clint, is this a Molly Hatchet band tee?”

“I couldn’t help it; if you really want to be with me you need to know you are flirtin’ with disaster.” He chucked softly to himself at as I rolled my eyes. “Besides, it looks good on you. And, I like knowing I still have some claim to you.”

“Clint, no matter how long this training takes, how long we are apart for or have to pretend for…I love you and I’m yours, no one else.”

“A lot of the Cadet’s hook up with each other, since there’s not much to do for entertainment.”

“Psshht. Like I’m going to hook up with some Cadet after having the famous Clinton “Hawkeye” Barton. Come on.”

He side-eyed me and shot me a crooked smile and drove off into the night.

“Are we here?” I woke suddenly, the car stopped in a parking lot. I must have fallen asleep on the drive; it was just after dawn.

“No, this is a Wendy’s parking lot. Not the SHIELD training centre.”

“Sweet, I’m starving.” I said, unbuckling my seat belt and opening the door to the car. “Oh, shit. Gravity. Going down.” I tripped over my own legs and fell out of the car, hitting the pavement.

“Shit, Christina! Are you alright?” Clint asked rushing around the car to get to me.

“I’ve been sitting too long, I think. Awww, it’s closed.” All the lights were off in the Wendy’s. “Why did you tease me with burgers and fries. That’s just mean. WE DIDN’T HAVE DINNER!”

Clint helped me up and leaned me against the side of the car. He put one hand on my waist and was running his fingers through my hair. He looked so sad.

“What’s wrong? I’m certain there’s a 24-hour drive through around here somewhere.”

He didn’t answer, he just continued to stroke my hair and stare at me.

“Clint, you’re worrying me. What’s wrong?”

“We’re three blocks from the training centre. I just wanted to take a minute to hold you one last time.”

I put my arms around his waist and pulled him to me, rested my head against his shoulder. “If while I’m away…” I started, but had to take a deep breath to continue. “If while I’m away, if you find someone else…” I didn’t get to finish my sentence. Clint, pulled my face away from his shoulder and crushed his lips against mine.

“There will never be anyone else.” He said as I tore myself away from him.

“What’s our story?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

“Story?”

“Our story as to why we are over two hours late.”

“No idea. Consider coming up with a backstory your first mission.” He answered, opening the door for me.

We arrived at the SHIELD training centre; I was expecting more. It looked like a stereotypical college campus. Nothing giving away that this is where elite spies were trained.

Clint exited the car and threw on a pair of wrap-around sunglasses. Suddenly, he wasn’t my Clint any more. He was Agent Barton, SHIELD operative. I grabbed my bag from the backseat and followed him, trying to decide if I’d made a new _most terrible decision_ of my life.

“Dr. Crane, good to see you again. I’m pleased to see you accepted my offer.” Clint had taken me down a corridor to an unmarked room. Sitting behind a plain desk was Director Fury. “I suppose I’ll have start sending directions with my offers, we don’t want any of our other recruits getting lost and arriving two hours late. Now do we?”

Clint cleared his throat and said, “my apologies, Sir, we, there was…um.”

“Save it Agent Barton, I don’t need the details.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Have a seat, Dr. Crane, and we’ll go over your training plan.”

“Would you mind not calling me Dr. Crane?”

“You are a medical doctor, are you not?”

“Oh, I am. I just don’t like going by Dr. Crane, not since the new Batman movies came out. I’m not a scarecrow.”

“Ah, I see.” Fury said, while Clint said “What?”

“Your training plan, Ms. Crane, will be slightly different than the standard Cadet. You already have a medical degree, are a certified Critical Care Paramedic, and have extensive training through Central—finally got that file unsealed." Fury said, looking some-what smug. " Excellent reviews for infiltration, hand to hand combat, survival, electronic surveillance and…. hmmm…marksmanship not so good.” Fury looked up from the file in front of him and raised his eyebrow at me.

I pointed to my glasses. Fury nodded.

“You are fluent in eight languages; French, nice; Italian, nice; German, very helpful; Russian, good; Mandarin, nice; Spanish, nice; Gaelic…why; and ASL-FSL. With your _special_ abilities, language and survival skills, you’re going Special Operations.”

“Spec-Ops? You mean I’m going be trained to be a SHIELD spy? You think you’ll succeed where Central failed?”

“Not everyone who joins SHIELD comes in to be a spy. We need cooks, mechanics and administrators, just like every other major corporation. Ninety percent of our Cadets will never be involved in any form of covert operations. In fact, most of our covert operatives are found with their skills already honed, Agent Barton and Romanov are two prime examples. That being said, not everyone who joins SHIELD can evaporate a city block without even trying. We are going to succeed here because we already know what you are capable of and are not going to try to have you become something you don't want to be. We have special training set up for you to learn to use your skills, so they don’t erupt violently. This is your schedule, it starts tomorrow.”

“Then why did I need to be here today?”

“Your training was intended start today, but apparently you had more important things to do. Consider that your one and only get out of jail card. Oh, and don’t tell any of the other Cadets I met with you personally or that you know Agent Barton here and the rest of the Avengers. Understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Fury stood, indicating this meeting was over. “Agent Barton, show Cadet Crane to her accommodations.”

“Directory Fury? What if I can’t hack it in special ops.”

“The world will always need janitors, Ms. Crane.”

Clint opened the door, waiting for me to leave before he started down the corridor.

“Clin…Agent Barton?”

“Yes?”

“I’m scared.”

He stopped short in front of me and I walked smack into his back. He looked around, grabbed my wrist, opened a door and pushed me inside what appeared to be a janitorial closet.

“You can’t say things like that to me anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Because, now I want to protect you and take care of you, But I can’t! You need to do this yourself.”

“I can do the school stuff and spy stuff all on my own, that’s not a big deal, that doesn’t scare me. I’m great at school. Weren’t you listening to Fury read off my highlight reel?”

“About that,” Clint said cutting across my train of thought, “why didn’t you tell me you could speak ASL? Seeing as how I’m mostly deaf, it could come in handy.”

“You said it wasn’t a big deal, so I didn’t want to draw attention to it.”

Clint jerked as if he wanted to move towards me, but stopped himself and shook his head.

“What are you afraid of then?”

“Training my abilities. What if I fuck up and kill people again? What if I fuck up and kill you?” I finished in a whisper.

This time he did move to me, wrapped me in hug, resting his chin on my head.

“You won’t. You are strong and I know you can do this.” He looked down at me, and after a pause said, “I love you.”

“I love you.”

“Ok we have to get out of here before I end up fucking you in a janitor’s closet. This is the last time we are going to be together until your training is complete. Do you understand?”

“I understand, but do you?”

He opened the door and started walking down the corridor. “Keep up Cadet Crane.”

The next door we entered was my room. Spartan was being generous. A single bed, a three-drawer dresser, teeny-tiny closet with SHIELD uniforms already hanging, a small desk with a tablet and my ID card laying on it and a corded phone on the wall above.

“Where is the bathroom.”

“Cadets have shared washroom accommodations. It should be just a bit farther down the hallway.”

“Awesome.” I threw my duffel on the bag, opened it and started rummaging.

“I’ll go now.”

“Clint, wait!” I found what I had been rummaging for.

“You can’t call me Clint.”

“I’m not speaking to you as Agent Barton, I’m speaking to you as Clint.” I held open my hand showing him the jump drive I was holding. “Clint, on this jump drive is my life. Everything that I was before I joined Central, everything I was during my time with Central, and everything up until I moved to New York. Will you keep this safe for me?”

“Your life really was in that bag.”

“Yes, stitched into the lining. Parts of my history have been erased or altered for public consumption. This is the only true and complete record of my life ever happening. If anything happens to me, I need to know that it’s safe. I trust you with my heart, I trust you with my life. Will you keep this safe for me?” I asked again.

“Yes.”

“You can look at it if you want to.”

“Sure, one night when I’m drunk and missing you dearly.”

“I don’t _think_ there are any nude photos, but I could be mistaken. I haven’t flipped through the files in a while.”

“I need to go.” He turned to leave, had one foot out the door and turned suddenly. He wrapped me up in his arms and kissed me deeply. He let go of me and almost ran from the room, slamming the door behind him.

I sunk onto the bed, wondering for the twentieth time in under an hour if I had made the right decision.


	20. So, it Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christina goes exploring

I stood in the middle of my room, trying to take it all in. I only jumped a little when the phone on the wall started to ring.

“Hello?”

“Cadet Crane, you are due in the medical facility for your entrance medical examination. Thank you.” And whomever was on the phone hung up.

“Sure. Walk down the creepy unmarked hallways alone. Go to the medical facility in the government training centre with no back up. What could possibly go wrong.”

Fortunately, no matter the size or location all medical facilities smelled the same and I was able to sniff my way down the hallways to the right location.

I was given a gown and told to disrobe and wait in room four. I tossed the gown aside and sat on the exam bed, swinging my legs and kicking them against the bed frame when the Doctor walked in holding a file.

“Cadet Crane? I’m Dr. Samuels. How are you today.”

“Peachy with a side of keen. I can tell you right now I’m am perfectly fit and do not need an exam. In fact, I’m just going to go AMA.” I hopped up off the bed and made to leave.

“I’m sorry but that is not possible. You waived your right to go against medical advice when you signed up for SHIELD. Since you, too, are a medical doctor, you must know that medical professionals are the worst for reporting ails and injuries. As such, you are getting your exam. I see that you won’t be getting any blood tests, as per the Director, so that’s one less thing for us to get through today. Now please, disrobe and put on the gown.”

“These are some interesting marks.” Dr. Samuels remarked looking at my shoulder and then down to my hips. I hadn’t bothered with the gown. I was just sitting on the exam bed in my undergarments.

“Um…I fell?”

“Yes, you fell in a way that someone bit your shoulder and left finger bruises on your hips? Pull the other one Dr. Crane. All I need to know is if these marks were made consensually.”

“Very much so.” I said, flushing from my toes to my hair line.

“Then these are none of my business. Your heart rate is good, blood pressure is fantastic, again, no blood work required. I’d say you are medically cleared to being your training. I wish you luck, and if you need anything at all, stop on by.”

After thanking Dr. Samuels, I left the medical facility. I didn’t want to head back to my room so I figured I’d wander around for a bit and get my bearings. Working my way up and down each corridor and offshoot, I found the phone bank, the shower facilities and eventually found the cafeteria. It was lunch time so it was packed with SHIELD Agents and Cadets, all in uniform.

“You must be Cadet Crane.”

I turned around to see who had spoken and found myself looking at the most intense person I had ever seen. There was no emotion in his eyes, they were flat and black.

“Yes, that’s me.”

“You are late and you are out of uniform.”

“My apologies, I was delayed in my arrival. Since you know who I am, maybe you should introduce yourself.”

“Senior Training Agent Harper. I suggest you remember who I am. You will not show your face out side of your quarters until you are in proper uniform. Is that understood?”

“Yes…sir.” I turned my back on him and went back to my room.

“I strongly suggest you never turn your back on me again, Cadet Crane.”

I sat in the chair at the desk, mulling my decisions. Stuck in the realization that I was going to be here in DC for the next six months, I stood up and dumped my duffle on the bed. I should at least unpack and make myself feel more at home. Mixed in with my belongings was an unfamiliar small, manila envelope.

Sitting on the bed, I opened the enveloped and dumped it contents into my hand. A sliver chain slipped out into my hand. I looked at the chain then back into the envelope, there was a note stuck inside. 

_SHIELD Cadets are allowed to wear one piece of personal jewelry. Wear this and think of me. Love, C_

I took a closer look at the chain; it had an arrow pendant. With the chain clasped around my neck, the arrow settled perfectly into the hollow of my throat. “Oh, Clint.” I sighed and touched the arrow.

I put away the rest of my belongings, it all fit in the tiny dresser with out issue. I decided to stay in my room until tomorrow, Clint the ever knowledgeable and experienced SHIELD Agent had not only packed my bag, but snuck in a few snacks for me too. At least I wouldn’t get too hungry this evening.

The lights in my room turned on automatically the next morning at precisely 05:30, I went and showered, came back to my room and put on my SHIELD uniform.

I walked into the corridor, ready to face the up coming months training to be an Agent of SHIELD.


	21. Agent of SHIELD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The real training begins

The next twelve weeks passed in a blur. The training wasn’t that difficult, but the days were long, starting at 05:30 and ended well after 22:00. I had never been more fit and ripped than I was right now, possibly because this was a dry campus and I hadn’t had a drink since the night that Clint and I…I had to cut off that train of thought right quick. 

Every time I thought of Clint, I got a lump in my throat and touched the arrow just below. I had three months left; three months to finish my training and see him. I had this little voice in the back of my head telling me that he wouldn’t want to see me when I was done, that if he really wanted to be with me, he would have found a way to come and visit. Try as I might, this voice was getting louder and louder.

I was able to make phone calls every third day, but the only person I had to call was Eric. He kept me up to date on what was happening at home and at work. He bitched me out pretty good the first time I called… ‘the last thing I needed after a twelve-hour shift is to walk into an apartment that reeks of sex and have to change the damn sheets.’ But, sheets aside he was happy for me. Eric kept me grounded and from running screaming from the building.

Aside from being away from Clint, the only other problem I was having was with Agent Harper. He was a dick. As the Senior Training Agent, he had been made aware that I had previous training, but he was not made privy to what kind of training and from what agency. Harper was always looking for ways to make me fail, but had mostly been unsuccessful. Code breaking, lock picking, hand to hand sparring, and a variety of other things, I had no problem with. I was actually helping out a bunch of the younger kids in my training class with the navigation and logistics stuff since apparently paper maps were obsolete to them.

The only thing that Harper had been able to find to criticize me on was my marksmanship. I could usually hit the target, but nowhere near the head or centre of the mass. I tried to explain that since I had sworn an oath as a physician to do no harm, I couldn’t take a life. That didn’t go over well, apparently Harper was of the mind set of kill or be killed.

Harper kept me out for extra target practice every day, trying to grind me down and make me quit. I started to have flashbacks of Jamie. But I didn’t give up, I didn’t get much better, but I kept trying. Every day after extra training I would think that maybe if I had a good teacher, I could actually get better.

I went to shower after target practice, I was hot and sweaty and smelled of gun powder. When I got back from the showers, I found that someone had been in my room and left a sealed envelope on my desk. I held my breath opening it, thinking maybe Clint had sent me a letter. My heart fell a bit, but my interest peaked as I read through the memo. I was to report to training level three this morning to start my special training.

I made my way down level three after breakfast, wondering what I was in for. I figured they’d run some tests on me and try to figure out what makes me tick and then either try to weaponize me or come up with a way to clone my abilities.

I knocked on the door to the training room and was shocked when a familiar face emerged from behind.

“Christina, how are you doing?”

“Bruce? What are you doing here?” I asked rushing in to give him a hug.

“Director Fury asked me to come down and see if I could help with your training.” He patted me on the back and said “it’s really good to see you. You look great.”

“How’s everyone else doing?” 

“Nat and Steve are out on a mission for SHIELD, hunting down some assassin. Tony is working on his arc reactor project. I’m not sure what Clint is up to, after you left for SHIELD, he stopped coming around…sorry.”

“S’Ok, you’re not his babysitter.” I said touching my pendant. “I’m very happy to see you, though. How are you going to help with my training?”

“SHIELD believes that if I can learn to control what is in me and only release it when required, I can help you learn to do the same. I’m going to warn you; it won’t be easy. It’s going to hurt, maybe a bit physically, but definitely emotionally and mentally. This may be the hardest thing you have ever done in your life. I know it was for me.”

“What if I can’t control it? What if I hurt you, or everyone here?”

“We’ve made some preparations, follow me.” Bruce lead me into a large room. It looked like it was made entirely of glass and chrome. There was a row of computers and cameras facing a large glass enclosure in the centre of the room.

I walked up the enclosure, trying to figure out what it was.

“Do you know what a Faraday cage is?”

“They block electromagnetic fields. We had one around the MRI at the hospital. This isn’t a Faraday cage.”

“It’s the best comparison I could come up with. Tony and I developed it after reviewing the videos of your incident and the results from your blood work. What we’ve determined is that somehow, you are able to turn emotional turbulence into energy. The epinephrine, dopamine and serotonin levels in your system are incredibly high and when stimulated, historically when you are angry and scared a chemical reaction occurs within you and forces out the excess hormones as energy. We haven’t been able to figure out how you are able to convey desired emotions on to other people. We’re toying around with the idea of pheromones.”

“Bruce,” I said stopping his tirade, “what’s the cage thing for and how is it going to help me control the release?”

“Oh, right. The enclosure is made of a special polymer that Tony developed, it should be strong enough to contain any…accidental releases you may have. However, by controlling your emotions, by picturing them as something tangible and forcing them to one location, you may be able to control the release. If you bundle all of the energy into one location, say your hands, you may be able to focus the energy at a specific target.”

“I FUCKING KNEW IT!” I shouted. “SHIELD is trying to turn me into a weapon.”

“Of course, they are. They’re SHIELD. However, I couldn’t care less about what SHIELD wants. I’m here to help you learn to control what is in you and live your life free of the fear you have. If you choose to use your abilities to help SHIELD, or the Avengers, or yourself if you’re ever in danger, that’s completely up to you. Knowing you have control is power.”

“Bruce, if it was anyone but you in here, I’d run so far, so fast. Where do we start?”

Essentially the plan was to stimulate my emotions by playing various audio and video clips to see what kind of reaction I had. It was mostly just annoying. Over the next week I watched sad movies, scary movies, video clips from combat, I had no major reaction, I knew all of these were either fake or didn’t involve me. The only thing I had to a reaction was when Bruce showed me the Sara McLachlan SPCA commercial, if you don’t have a reaction to that, you’re just not human.

“Bruce, this isn’t working, none of this is real.”

“I know, but we’ll keep trying. I have a plan, but if it works, please don’t kill me.”

I got back in the booth and watched the video screens on the other side, waiting to see what Bruce had in-store for me. No video played. Instead I heard Jamie’s voice.

“Nooo.” I tried to get out, but found I was locked in. I spun around in the booth looking for Bruce, but I couldn’t find him. I was trapped in a glass box with nothing but the voice of hatred. It said all the same horrible things, how stupid I was, how useless I was, how everything was my fault, it just kept going. The same voice was looping and stacking on itself, the room was filled with his voices, it was all around me, I couldn’t escape.

Then I heard Bruce shouting at me. “Control it, you can control it, I know you can.” I opened my eyes, not even realizing I had closed them. I was glowing, never a good sign. Bruce was on the other side of the wall, if this went bad, I could kill him. He was my friend, the only friend I had right now; I couldn’t hurt him. I pictured pulling in the glow, capturing it and moving it, to my hands. Yes, capture it in my hands, in one spot, like Bruce had suggested.

I pulled hard, using every ounce of strength I had, imagined balling up the light and holding it in my hands. Suddenly Jamie’s voices were gone, replaced by a softer, sweeter voice. “Calm down baby, it’s over now, it’s ok, just relax, just breath.” Clint.

The door to the booth opened. “You did it, you moved your energy, I knew you could do it!” Bruce said coming into the booth.

“Stay away from me!” I threw myself into the corner, trying to stay as far away as I could, I wasn’t safe.

“You’re ok, come on out, you’re not even glowing anymore.”

“What the hell did you do to me?”


	22. Progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Progress is made

I worked with Bruce every day; I had been excused from all other classes—except marksmanship—in order to focus on my abilities; all the other classes were pointless, I already knew the material and had schooled some of the instructing Agents…they didn’t take it too well for some reason. 

Progress was being made, I was getting better and faster at controlling my energy. I didn’t always need the stimulation to activate the energy, or Clint’s voice to calm me back down. I was getting close to being able to turn this off and on, just like I could with the emotional control part.

“I supposed now that I can channel the glow into just my hands, I’d make a great runway person at the airport.” I said one day getting out of the booth.

“Well if SHIELD doesn’t work out for you…I hear people who work at the airport get discounted flights. You call what you can do ‘the glow’?”

“I thought it sounded more super-heroie.”

Bruce suggested mixing in emotional control to our training. He said since the absorption of other people’s emotions destabilized me it would be a good training exercise to see if I could control the energy with unstable emotions. I told him to fuck off, I wasn’t ready for that.

With less than a week left of my SHIELD training to go Bruce decided it was time to throw caution to the wind.

“Alright, so today, we’re going to see if you can project the energy in a controlled fashion.”

“That seems like a dumb idea.”

“Get in the booth, Christina.”

I stuck my tongue out at him and did as I was told.

He had stuck a little target to the wall, it looked like it had come out of a children’s archery set. I rolled my eyes and said “Ok, I’m ready.” I concentrated really hard, trying to find the glow, pull it into my hands.

“Nice, Christina.” I heard Bruce say from the other side of the wall.

My hands were glowing, white hot.

“Now, push the energy forward. I have no suggestions on how to make that happen.”

“You’re a _big_ help Bruce.”

Push the energy forward…I pushed my hands forward…nothing. I waved them around like a conductor…nothing. I swished and flicked my hands, channeling my inner Hermione…nothing.

“Uggggg, why is this so hard?!?”

“Don’t throw a fit, Christina, you’ll figure it out.”

Throw something…throw the energy forward, that’s a thought. I raised my hands up, like I was winding up to throw a baseball, and threw an imaginary ball forward from my right hand. The glow disappeared from my hand; the target disappeared from the wall. I threw my left hand forward, the glow disappeared, a ripple appeared in the glass.

“Oh, shit.” I said.

Bruce ripped open the door to the booth and looked at the ripple in the glass I had made.

“It appears as if the energy you possess is much stronger than we anticipated.”

“I believe my previous statement of ‘oh, shit’ said the exact same thing in less words.”

“This is amazing, you can channel your energy, this is huge. You haven’t reacted to the voices; you haven’t needed the calming message. This is all you. You should be so proud.” He pulled me against him, wrapping me in big hug.

“Bruce, this doesn’t mean I’m safe, though.” I pulled back, still afraid I could hurt him, who knows how much more energy I had coursing through my body.

“I’m never safe, but I manage, and so can you. This shows that you can channel your energy, we can start working on seeing if you have different settings.”

“Settings? Like on the toaster? Do you want to be lightly toasted or burnt to a bloody crisp?”

“Exactly! We can see if you can just stun someone, maybe just knock them over or if you are always going to annihilate what ever you’re aimed at.”

“Bruce, dude, I was being sarcastic.”

“Oh.”

“This is great though. You’re right, I know I can control the glow, now I need to find the dimmer switch. I would never have been able to do any of this without you’re help.”

“Have you put any thought into what you’d like to do after your training period is over?”

“Nah, because I’m in spec ops I don’t really get a say. I have a final exam-assignment thingy to pass, I think it’s going to be mission oriented, and then depending on how well I do, they’ll decide where to stick me.”

“I hope it’s ok with you, but I’ve been dropping hints that you’d make a great addition to the Avengers team.”

“Thank you, Bruce. That would be amazing. I’ve gotta’ go get cleaned up, if I’m late for shooting class Harper will have my ass.”

“Maybe you could practice on him.”

“HA. Don’t tempt me.” I gave Bruce a quick hug and went to shower.

I walked onto the shooting range a half hour later and the entire class was already there. I checked my watch, a moment of panic thinking I was late, but no, I was fifteen minutes early.

“Hey, why’s everyone here so early?” I asked one of my classmates.

“Didn’t you hear? Captain America is going to be here today.”

“What? No, he’s not he’s off in Pra…probably somewhere on SHILED business.” I almost let it slip that Bruce had told me Steve and Natasha were in Prague, following the trail of some international assassin. “Why would he bother to come all the way here.”

“I don’t know, but one of the Cadets working up for administration heard that someone from the Battle of New York was going to be here today.”

“Maybe they meant me, I was at the Battle of New York. I was working.”

“Shut up, Crane.”

“And anyway, why would a guy with a shield come to a shooting range, it would make more sense if Hawkeye came, he’s the marksman, right?”

“You’re right. He is.” A familiar voice said from behind me.

My eyes grew wide and I felt a flush take over my body, I knew that voice. I turned and there he was. He winked at me and walked down to the front of the range and started talking to Harper.

“Holy shit…is that fucking Hawkeye…he’s an Avenger…he’s so hot…look at his arms…is he going to show us to shoot an arrow...”

The crowd around me buzzed with excitement, all I could do was stare. I hadn’t seen him in almost six months, my memories were definitely not doing him justice. His hair was a bit longer than when I had seen him last and he hadn’t shaved. It was taking every ounce of control not to jump him this very moment. I went to the set of bleachers behind the shoot line and sat, waiting for class to start.

“Cadets, take a seat. Now.” Harper shouted over the general babble. “We have a guest with us today. This is Agent Clint Barton, handle, Hawkeye. Agent Barton worked spec ops for several years and is now one of SHIELDS best agents, he is also a highly skilled marksman and will be evaluating your skills before your final assignment.”

“Thank you, Agent Harper. Your final assignment has a field work component. None of you will be put in any real danger, but as Agents of SHILED, you must be prepared for anything to happen. I’m here to make sure that you are all competent with standard issue side arms so that if needed, you can defend yourself.”

“Well I’m screwed.” The cadets nearest to me laughed, and a few patted me on the back, trying to tell me it would be ok.

“Cadets, grab your sidearms and step to the line.” Harper shouted.

I stood slowly, and stretched, this was not going to be pretty. 

“Cadet Crane, you’re here.” Harper shouted at me, pointing to the shooting position next to his. 

I gave Harper the most sarcastic thank you smile I could muster, grabbed my gun, checked the chamber and the clip and stepped to the line.

“Agent Barton, this is Cadet Crane, prepare to be disappointed.”

“Excuse me?” Clint asked, blinking a few times.

“Cadet Crane can barely hit the target; I’m surprised she’s been allowed to stay on as a cadet.”

Fortunately, Harper had his back to me and didn’t see my eye roll to end all eye rolls, but Clint did and smirked.

“I will evaluate Cadet Crane last then, give her sometime to warm up and maybe impress me. From what I’ve heard she has excelled in all other courses and been exempt from finishing them since she knows more than most of her instructors. Maybe she just needs a better instructor in this class.” 

Harper still had his back to me, but I knew what Agent Barton had said touched a nerve; the man tensed from head to toe. He turned and stormed down the line. 

Agent Barton was still standing in front of me, he was doing something odd with his hands. He was signing.

 _‘I miss you.’_ He made to walk past me, looked around, made sure no one was looking and touched the arrow at my throat.

It took a while for Agents Harper and Barton—I had to keep thinking of him as Agent Barton and not my Clint—to come back my way. Harper was not looking too pleased when they finally got to me. 

“Cadet Crane, do not embarrass me.” Hissed into my ear as he took his place behind my firing line.

I unholstered my weapon and lined up with the target down field.

“What are you doing?” Clin…. Agent Barton asked.

“Shooting a gun…?”

“Who taught you to hold a weapon, Cadet?”

I looked at my hands and gun and back at Agent Barton and shrugged.

“Chris…Cadet Crane, you are holding the weapon in a right-handed grip, but your stance is for a left-handed grip. You need to either change your grip on your weapon or your stance. Here, stand like this…” he said moving to mimic as if he were shooting at the target. “Good, now relax and lower your shoulders, you’re too tense…come on just relax…”

“You try to relax; I haven’t seen you in almost six months…” I muttered out of the corner of my mouth.

“Lower the weapon a bit, you’re holding it too high…great, now look down the sight at your target. Take a deep breath, exhale and squeeze, don’t jerk, squeeze the trigger.”

I fired and to my shock hit pretty damn close to the centre bull’s eye.

“Ha! I shot you, you motherfucker!” I exclaimed. “Oh, umm, I mean…thank you Agent Barton?”

“Take a seat, Cadet.”

I could tell he was holding back a laugh, especially when he turned away from me and pushed his hands through his hair.

“Cadet’s, you have all demonstrated that you have the ability to use a SHILED issued side arm to hit a stationary target at twenty yards. But how does that help you in the real world? When your back’s up against the wall and the bad guys are closing in, they won’t stand still for you, no matter how nicely you ask…believe me, I know, I’ve asked and rarely do they play along.

“For your final assignment, you are being sent into the field, your mission is to recover a hostage from hostile parties unknown. You will be issued side a arm. However, you are not authorized to use lethal force. The side arms are for protection, not persuasion. Your mission packages and all pertinent information are in your accommodations. Your assignment starts tomorrow. I suggest you all go and get some food and rest. This will not be an easy assignment.” Agent Barton finished, looking at each Cadet in turn, except for me. “You are dismissed.”

Laying a top the small desk in my room was a thin package. I opened it up, expecting details of the upcoming mission… “the fuck?”

_Report to Director Fury’s office, 08:30 for your final assignment._

“Well that can’t be good.”


	23. Final Assignment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the final assignment

I knocked on Director Fury’s door at 08:25 the following morning. I always figured my final assignment would be different than all the other Cadets. Whether it would be a show of my new fancy glow hands, attempting to control someone’s emotions or a combination there of, was yet to be determined.

“Good morning Cadet Crane.” Agent Barton said, opening the door for me.

“Oh, shit.” I said, somewhat shocked. “I mean, um, good morning Agent Barton.” I looked at Director Fury, nodded and said “Good morning Director.”

“Please, have a seat.” Fury said motioning towards one of the chairs in front of his desk. “I understand that you will be finishing your SHILED Agent training at the top of your class and Dr. Banner has given rave reviews on your progress in harnessing your…abilities. That being said, you still need to complete your final assignment. Yours will be more difficult than that of the other Cadets.”

“I expected nothing different.”

“Why?” Agent Barton said from beside the door.

“Agent Crane still needs to prove that she can over come issues that have challenged her previously. Agent Barton, you are here as a courtesy, SHIELD is aware of your personal feelings towards Cadet Crane and your assistance in her training. You and Dr. Banner will be assisting Cadet Crane in her final assignment.”

“Excuse me, sir…what is my final assignment? Everyone else has to recover a hostage, what do I have to do?”

“They have to recover a fake hostage; they are being issued paint ball guns; their mission is to see how they react under pressure.” Agent Barton said.

“Awww, I love paintball, can’t I do that instead?” I asked, batting my eye lashes at Fury.

“Follow me.” Fury stood up and led Agent Barton and myself down to training level three.

“Hi, Bruce!” Bruce was standing outside the door to our normal training room. I gave him a quick hug, but he seemed less than receptive and pushed me aside…maybe he didn’t want to piss of Agent Barton.

“This is the worst idea in the history of bad ideas, you do know that, right?”

“Dr. Banner, your concerns have been noted. Step away from the door.”

“No. Christina,” he said looking at me. “Nothing good can come from what Fury wants you to do. Walk away now.”

“Bruce, I don’t even know what’s going on.”

“You haven’t told her!?!”

“Calm down, Bruce.” I put my hand on his arm, he was turning an alarming shade of green.

“You’re going to let this happen?” Bruce said turning on Agent Barton.

“Come on man, I don’t even know what’s going on. Fury told me yesterday to be here today. Take a deep breath, calm down.” He pulled me away from Bruce and tucked me behind him, noting the green.

“Agent Barton, it’s ok, Bruce won’t hurt me...will you Bruce?”

Then hallway was full of the voices of the three men, Bruce trying to convince me to leave and convince Clint that this was a bad idea…Clint questioning what was going on, Fury exerting his authority, while trying not to provoke Bruce any further.

“Somebody, just tell me what is going on.” I said, but of course no one heard me as the three men were too caught up in their own arguments. 

“Please, someone just tell me what’s happening.” I tried again, and again…

“SOMEBODY JUST OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!” I shouted, my voice carrying over the three men, echoing around the corridor.

“Cadet Crane, it's your turn to calm down.” Fury said taking a step back.

“What? Oh, damn.” My hands were glowing. “Sorry, give me a second. Somethings got my back up.”

“Director, this is what I mean. Christina is not ready for this.” Bruce said, stepping once again in front of the door.

“She had better get ready because we’re going through that door." Cadet Crane, as of this moment I promote you to a full non-probationary Agent of SHIELD.”

“Umm, thanks? But, now I’m really curious about what my final assignment is…hang on…if you’re making me an Agent now, then I don’t have a final assignment. Director, what’s going on?”

Clint looked at me and then at Fury, “What’s behind the door?”

Fury stepped up to Bruce and stared him down. “This is reckless.” Bruce said finally moving from the door.

“Follow me Agent Crane.”

I was falling, the world around me was collapsing, I was dreaming, I was dead.

“No.”

“Hi honey. I’m back.”

“No. You’re dead, I killed you.”

“You were shit at everything else you did, why would killing be any different.”

“What the fuck is this?” Clint asked stepping in front of me, putting his hand on the butt of his sidearm.

“I told you this was a bad idea.” Bruce said from behind us.

“That’s enough Dr. Banner. This is Jamie Heron, HYDRA Agent, previously thought to be deceased.”

I wanted to ask questions, to scream, to shout, to run, but I was frozen, nothing was working. I peered around Clint’s shoulder, to make sure the person before me was Jamie. He had the same eyes, the same voice, the same tattoos. A faint whimper was the only noise I could make.

“He’s supposed to be dead, how is he here and in SHIELD custody?” Fortunately, Clint was able to ask the same questions that I had.

“Mr. Heron was only a little bit dead, he was recovered from the debris field caused by Agent Crane’s energy outburst, treated and has been held in custody of the Canadian government for the past two years.”

“That doesn’t explain why he’s in my lab.” Bruce said, standing next to Clint blocking me completely from Jamie’s view.

“I’ve had a, let’s call it a ‘come to Jesus’ moment. HYDRA is on the way out, with SHIELD, of course, being responsible. I have information on HYDRA that SHIELD needs, I don’t want to be cooped up in a prison cell for the rest of my life. I’m willing to give SHIELD the information I have.”

“What’s the catch?” “Bullshit.” Bruce and Clint said at the same time.

“Which one of you is fucking her? Or are both of you fucking her? There’s no reason for two Agents to _want_ to protect her unless she was blowing both of you. That’s all she had going for her, she was a good lay, the things she could do with her tongue...mmmmm… .”

Clint pulled his side arm and Bruce really started to go green.

“Guys, stop. Don’t let him in your head, he lived in mine for four years, it’s not worth it. Please,” I put one hand on Clint’s arm and the other on Bruce’s, “just ignore him.”

“Mr. Heron will only reveal what he knows about HYDRA to Agent Crane, that is his only condition.” Fury cut in.

“Absolutely not.” Clint said.

“Is the information he has valuable?” I asked, ignoring Clint for the time being.

“It very well may be, but we won’t know until we have the information.”

“May I have sometime to think this over.”

“You have 72 hours to decide, if we don’t debrief him within the next 96, he gets sent back to Canada and we may never find out what he knows.”

“Fine, then in 96 hours his ass is back in Canada and he can stay in a cell, we can take down HYDRA without him.”

“I have to agree with Clint here, Director. There has to be another way to get the information.”

“I will let you know. May I go?”

“You are dismissed. 72 hours, don’t forget.”

“Christina, you don’t have to do this.” Bruce said grabbing my arm.

“I know.” I left the room, my head still spinning.

“Gentlemen, you may want to check your pockets. I take back what I said earlier…she was good at two things…fucking and stealing…one of you is missing keys. I’d put money on it.”

I found Clint’s bike in the lot. I hoped he wouldn’t be too mad at me for commandeering his vehicle, but desperate times and all. I kicked the bike into gear and drove as fast as I could, wanting to put as much distance as possible between me and the building that contained that man.


	24. What Was I Going to Do?

Stopping only once for fuel, I drove straight back to my apartment. I parked the bike on the street and went into the bodega across from my building and cleared them out of wine.

Eric found me a few hours later, curled up in the middle of the bed, nearly comatose from drink and shock.

“Christina, what’s wrong.” He rushed to my side. “What happened, is it Clint?”

“It’s, fuck…I can’t tell you.” I burst into tears and sobbed onto his shoulder.

“If that fucking archer asshole hurt you, I don’t care if he hangs out with superhero’s or not, I’ll kill the fucker.”

“S’not Clint. It’s Jamie.”

“Jamie? I thought you said he was dead?”

“I thought he was dead, but he’s not, they, SHIELD, they want me to work with him, find out his secrets.”

“How drunk are you?”

“Not nearly enough.”

“We’re going to Billy’s.”

Billy was happy to see me; I hadn’t seen him since the day I met Clint. And apparently his business had been booming since word had got around that Tony Stark tried to buy him out, people wanted to see what kind of bar Iron Man wanted to buy. After a few pleasantries Billy set us up in a private booth near the back of the bar so we wouldn’t be disturbed—he knew something was wrong.

“…I have 72 hours to decide if I want to help. I don’t know what to do.” Eric had begged me to tell him what was happening, I told him I couldn’t, I didn’t want to get him involved. We decided after a few shots that if no one had expressly said the information was confidential then I could share. Who needs truth serum when you have tequila?

I didn’t give the HYDRA versus SHILED story, I still needed to protect my best friend, whether he wanted it or not. I told him that Jamie had been a big-time mobster and was willing to spill on his mob family, but only to me.

“You know this is like some serial killer dominance shit, right? He’s getting off on controlling you again, trying to make you his puppet. I say fuck ‘em and let them deport his ass back to Canada. If he doesn’t want to stay in a cell for the rest of his life, he can talk to any cop, not you. Wash your hands of this douche and file for divorce.”

“Divorce…I’m still fucking married? I need another drink, Eric.”

“On it.”

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“You could at least say thank you for the ride.” Bruce said to a silent Clint in the passenger seat. Clint had one leg up on the dash, his arm on the window sill, his head pressed against the glass. “I know she stole your keys, but can you really blame her? She had to get out quick, I know the feeling.”

“I get it. You know more about her than I do. You understand her better than I do. You’ve spent more time with her than I have. She talks to you more than me.” Clint was fuming.

“What are you trying to say, Barton?”

“I saw how she hugged you, how she put her hands on you when you started to go green.”

“Is that what this is? Clint, nothing is going on between Christina and I. I consider her a friend and colleague, nothing more. We have a lot in common, and I’ve been able to help her get to know her abilities better, but that’s it. Nothing more.”

“Whatever, man.”

“Do you know how we got her training to progress?”

Clint ignored him.

“We played audio clips of her ex, of Jamie, calling her names, berating her, all the horrible things that she told us he said to her. It worked.”

Clint sat up and stared at Bruce, his hand going to his sidearm for the third time in less than an hour.

“Do you know how I got her to calm down? Before she was able to control the energy herself?” Bruce looked at Clint, and looked away quickly, he wasn’t sure if he had ever seen this man that angry before. “Remember a few months ago when I had you record random voice messages? I used those, when Christina started to lose control, I played the messages you recorded. Just hearing your voice calmed her, put her in a state where she could focus better.”

“You played recordings of my voice to calm her down?”

“Yup, worked like a charm. Oh, and that charm you gave her, she touches it when she’s scared or worried, before she does something difficult. It…fortifies her. That woman really loves you. Look, I love her too, but not like you do, she is a great friend, one who knows what it’s like to have something you can’t always control living inside. It’s nice to have someone to talk to. I would compare it to what you and Natasha have.”

“Thanks for the ride, Bruce.”

“No problem. Do you think she went back to Stark Towers?”

“She’s at her apartment.” Clint answered, looking at his phone.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. That’s where Eric will be; he’s the only family she has.”

They drove on in silence for a while.

“Shit. You don’t think she’ll tell him, do you?”

“What?”

“Eric, you don’t think she told him...?”

“I hope not. But we didn’t tell her this was classified, so I just don’t know. We’re actually heading to Billy’s Bar…do you know where that is?” Clint asked, checking his phone again.

“Yeah, I know it, Tony tried to buy it…how do you know she’s there are you tracking her or something?”

Clint didn’t answer.

“Come on Clint, you didn’t put a tracking device on her?”

“She may or may not be wearing something that may or may not have a small GPS device installed.”

“She’s going to kill you.”

“I know.” Clint said, half smiling.

Clint and Bruce arrived at Billy’s about an hour later. Billy waved to Clint and pointed him towards the back of the room.

“Hey Clint and Bruce-y!” I said as they walked up to the booth I was sitting in.

“Get up, we’ve got to go.” Clint said motioning for me to get up.

“Nope. I’m staying. Eric and I are getting drunk and then we’re going to watch Carrots of the Paribbean.”

“I think you’ve got the drunk part down.” Bruce said snickering. “Where’s Eric.”

“He had to tinkle.”

“Hey guys, what’s up?” Eric said trying to high five Bruce and Clint, but only was only successful in smacking Bruce upside the head and clipping Clint’s shoulder. Neither man looked impressed.

“Eric! You’re back! I missed you.”

“Ok, we don’t have time for this. Christina, we have to get you…somewhere other than here. Eric, if you must you can come too.” Clint reached down to pull me up from the booth, I only stumbled a little.

“You’re damn right I’m coming with you. After the stunt you and your SHILED friends pulled, I’m not leaving her side.”

“Soooo, where are we going?” I asked after Clint poured Eric and I into the back of Bruce’s car.

“Stark Towers.”

Apparently, I had passed out in the back of the car. I woke up in the elevator, cradled in Clint’s arms. Eric, was being propped up by Bruce, who looked none-too-pleased.

“Welcome back.” Clint said looking down at me.

“Hi. I think I’m drunk.”

I felt Clint chuckle against me.

“Yeah you are…it’s not your fault. It’s these SHIELD assholes trying to get you to work with your asshole HYDRA ex.” Eric slurred.

“You know, you’re right Eric…wait…I never told you about HYDRA.”

Suddenly, I was sober.


	25. My Life Sucks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why can't things, ever once, go right?

If Clint hadn’t been holding me in his arms, Eric would probably be dead. When the elevator doors opened, Clint rushed out and threw me on to the couch; never taking his eyes off of Eric

Bruce had Eric by the throat, dragged him out of the elevator and threw him on the ground.

“Hey, look guys, I can explain.” Eric said, sounding somewhat strangled, possibly because Bruce now had his foot on Eric’s throat.

“Eric,” I said struggling to get up from the couch, “how do you know about HYDRA? I never once mentioned them to you.” I managed to find my feet and stumble over to Eric. “Bruce, get off of him, you’re choking him.”

“Get away from him.” Clint said. I hadn’t noticed he had gone to the kitchen and grabbed several of the larger knives. He had two in his belt and one in his hand.

“I didn’t know you guys had a deboning knife here…wait, what are you going to do with the knife Clint?” My still somewhat drunk brain finally catching up with the world around.

“Bruce, I got this. Get Christina somewhere safe.”

“No, what are you going to do? Let him explain.”

“Christina, if he knows about HYDRA , he’s one of them; ‘cause he sure as shit ain’t one of us.” Clint took a knee beside Eric, put the blade to his throat and said “talk.”

Bruce grabbed my arm and tried to pull me away.

“No, Bruce, let me go.” And then Bruce was on the ground. I jumped on Clint’s back trying to pull his arms back and get the knife away from Eric.

“Clint, what the hell are you doing?” It was Natasha. She rushed into the room, she must have been down the corridor in one of the training rooms and heard the ruckus we were making. “Barton, we’ve been over this, you can’t kill or hurt Christina’s friends just because they are male.” 

“Ok, I know this looks bad, but I can explain.” Clint said, still trying to shake me off his back and keep the knife on Eric.

“What did you do to Bruce?” Natasha asked, rushing to his side.

“Oh, shit, that was me; sorry, is he ok...? Drop the knife Clint, let him explain.” I growled, still pulling against Clint’s arms.

“Dude, seriously, please, just let me explain.” Eric said, trying to shrink back as far as he could from the knife.

Suddenly, it felt like I was flying through the air, when I stopped moving, I found myself on the floor, up against a wall. I looked up and saw Steve holding Clint in an armlock. He must have pulled me off of Clint’s back.

“THAT IS ENOUGH!” Steve shouted, I’d never heard him use his official Captain voice, it was a bit intimidating. “What on Earth is going on and what is wrong with Bruce?”

I pulled myself up, using the wall for leverage and support. “Jamie’s alive, Eric knows who HYDRA are…is…are? Fuck, grammar. I think I stunned Bruce…didn’t know I could do that…and I need to vomit…” I ran down the corridor towards the room that was mine the last time I stayed at Stark Towers. “Oh, and I’m officially an Agent of SHIELD.” I hollered as I entered my room.

“That was a lot of information very quickly.” Steve shook his head and looked at Clint. “Barton, I’m going to let you go, you have to promise not to stab Eric. Eric, you have to promise not to do whatever it was that provoked him. Does everyone understand?”

“I didn’t do anything, he attacked me.” Eric protested from the floor.

Clint attempted to lunge at Eric, but Steve held him fast.

“Enough, Agent Barton.”

“Cap, he’s HYDRA.”

“It’s true.” Bruce said groggily, propping himself up on his elbow. “He said so in the elevator.”

“Oh, thank God, you’re ok.” Natasha said, helping him sit up, looking somewhat more concerned than a friend and colleague would normally be.

“Yeah, apparently, Christina’s learned to set her phasers to stun.”

“I don’t understand.” Steve said, looking confused.

“It’s a Star Trek reference. Christina loves Star Trek. And, more importantly, I’m not fucking HYDRA.” Eric said wiggling away from Clint, standing up and brushing off the non existent dirt from his pants.

“That’s exactly what a HYDRA agent would say.” Bruce said jabbing his finger towards Eric.

“Alright, son, why don’t you have a seat and explain to us how you have heard of HYDRA. Bruce, go check on Christina…Clint...CLINT!”

“Yes, Steve?” Clint had been eyeballing Eric, slowly cleaning his fingernails with the deboning knife in a surprisingly threatening way.

“Put the knives away and have a seat. We’re going to see if we can do this the easy way.”

I heard a knock at my room door, but since I was riding the porcelain pony, I couldn’t answer. Then a knock came at the bathroom door.

“Christina? Are you ok?” Bruce asked popping his head in around the door.

“Peachy.” And then I vomited spectacularly once again. “Bruce! Are you ok? Did I hurt you? I didn’t mean to hurt you…” Pause…more vomit. “I’m so sorry, Bruce.” I tried to get up off of the floor, but my legs were weak.

“Hang on, I’ve got you.” Bruce helped me up, walked me back into the bedroom and put me in the oversized arm chair. He disappeared back into the bathroom and came back with a glass of water.

“How much _did_ you have to drink? I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone throw up that much, ever. And I’ve been to a Tony Stark party.”

“It stopped being drunk vomit about six heaves ago. Now it’s what the fuck is going on in my life vomit.”

Bruce patted me on the knee, “we’re trying to figure that out right now. If you’re up for it, come back out into the living room, and we’ll sort it out together.”

“I can’t go back out there, I’m not safe…and why are you in here? You should all be running in the opposite direction of me. I could have killed you; I didn’t even know I was using my ‘power’.” I put air quotes around the word power because right now my power felt more like a curse.

“But you didn’t hurt me. You just knocked me out. Whether you realized it or not, you change your setting, you could have killed me…but you didn’t!!” Bruce said quickly as I moaned and put my head in my hands. “Christina, listen. You have the ability to use your _glow_ as a lethal or non-lethal force; your emotions were high so you had an outburst…it happens to the best of us. Just be grateful you can control your intensity.”

I looked Bruce in the eye, looking for any sign he was trying to placate or patronize me. All I saw was genuine care and concern.

“Thank you, Bruce.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and gave him a quick hug.

“Hmm. Maybe you shouldn’t hug me. If Clint sees…well he’s the jealous type and all.”

“Not my problem.” I hugged Bruce again to prove my point. “He has to learn to trust me.”

“He does trust you. He doesn’t trust anyone else, which is probably why he has a tracking device on you.”

“I’m sorry he has a what on me?”

“Nothing, I said nothing. The last twenty-three seconds of speech did not occur.”

“I’m going to kill that asshole; second. I think I may kill Eric first.”


	26. Who the Hell are You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is he HYDRA?

Bruce and I walked into the great room. Eric was sitting on the sofa, Steve on the coffee table in front of him. Natasha and Clint were standing, flanking Steve.

Clint looked up at me when I walked in… _you ok?_ He signed.

_Fuck, no_. I signed back. “Steve, may I talk to Eric, please. In private.”

“I’m afraid I cannot allow that. You may have brought a HYDRA operative into Stark Towers; he cannot be allowed to be anywhere unsupervised.”

“Ok, a bit insulting, I don’t count as supervision?”

“You may be compromised.” Steve said.

“Fine, can you guys go stand over there,” I pointed to the far corner, “so I can have a chat with my former best friend.”

“Christina, we can’t leave you alone with someone who may be trying to hurt you.” Bruce came up behind me and put his hands on my shoulders. “We are here to help and protect you. We won’t be leaving you alone anytime soon.”

“You all suck.” I walked around the sofa and flopped down next to Eric. “Spill, and don’t leave anything out, I’m not in the mood.”

“Come on Christina, I’ve got nothing to tell you. Yeah, I’ve heard of the rift between SHIELD and HYDRA, so I connected some dots. That’s all.”

A knife came flying through the air and stuck in the couch, right beside Eric’s head.

“Tell the truth, or the next one is in you.”

“Clint! Tony’s going to kill you, this is like a five-thousand-dollar sofa!” I turned away from Clint and looked back at Eric. “Eric, please don’t you lie to me too, I just don’t think I can handle any more shocks to my system.”

“You missed our birthday.”

“I know, I’m so sorry. I tried to get free…I called. You didn’t join HYDRA because I missed our birthday, did you?”

“No. They came to me just after you got hired on and we were partnered together. I didn’t tell them anything important though…they just wanted to know who you were friends with and what you did in your spare time. I had no idea that they were bad guys, at first, I thought they were feds or cops or something and maybe you were in witness protection. That’s all, I swear. I mean they told me about your husband, that he used to work for them and that you killed him and they were kind of pissed about that; but that was after you had already told me he was an asshole; but I guess he’s not actually dead, is he?”

“What did you get in return?” I couldn’t even look at him. I was staring at the ceiling, trying to keep my tears from falling.

“They paid off my student loans...and the hospital bills from when my Mom was sick. But that’s it, I swear. And I told the guy, five months ago, that I was done giving them any info on you. I wasn’t going to do it any more. They kept asking for more information on your abilities’…what does that mean anyway?” Erick looked at me questioningly.

“Keep talking, it’s the only thing keeping you in one piece.”

“Fine. So, they kept asking about your abilities’, and I told them I had no idea what they were talking about. I told them you joined SHILED, one of them said that was good they could keep an eye on you there too. And they asked about these guys a lot too.” Eric waved his hands at everyone else in the room. “But I told them I didn’t know anything them either.”

“Do actually know what HYDRA is?” I asked.

“I figured they were like the CIA or something.”

“Oh, Eric, no. HYDRA is a group that wants to overthrow the government, all of them, not just the US. They want to create a new world order, and get rid of freedom and choice and all the things that make living awesome. They destroy everything, they kill anyone who gets in their way. They are fanatics, they are bad people.”

“What do they want with you? Aside from the fact that your husband is one of them…maybe they are trying to avenge his death. Ohhh, he’s not dead, so we’re all good, right?”

“They want me because I can do this.” I lit up my hands and waved them in Eric’s face.

“That’s awesome. You could work at the airport!”

“Fuck off, Eric.” I snorted a small laugh. “This is pure energy. I feed off of other people’s emotions, store the energy and then can release it, like a … like a …. laser gun. Oh, and I can control people’s emotions, I really don’t like doing it though since it fucks with my emotional balance. Like a super bad week of PMS.”

“Christina, I swear, I had no idea they wanted to hurt you. I was stupid, I needed the money…I didn’t think it could hurt, there’s nothing I told them that they couldn’t have found out without me.”

“Eric, before Christina met us, met Clint, what was the last thing they asked you to do?” Natasha asked.

“They asked…they asked if I could get a sample of your blood. I’m so fucking sorry.” Eric sobbed into his hands, great body wracking sobs.

I slid over on the sofa and put my arms around him. “It’s ok, we’ll figure this out. I know you didn’t want to hurt me.”

“Uhh, no we won’t. This kid is getting locked the fuck up.” Clint stepped over the coffee table and made to pull Eric off of the couch and away from me.

“Clint, you touch him and I’ll stun your ass. I know how to do that now, ask Bruce.”

“This kid tried to sell you out to HYDRA, there is no excuse, there is no forgiveness for that.” Clint said throwing his arms in the air.

“If anyone here, or if any Agent of SHIELD tries to do anything to Eric, you have to go through me first. He will not be harmed; he will not be thrown in a cell to be interrogated. Is that understood?”

“Why are you protecting him?” Natasha asked, cocking her head to one side, narrowing her eyes.

“Because he fucked up. Just like every one of us has done. He fucked up, he made a mistake…unlike most of us, he didn’t kill anyone. He deserves a second chance, just like we all got. I’m personally on at least my third chance, and if trusting him and trusting that he really is sorry makes me need to start my fourth chance, then so fucking be it.”

“Fair. But he’s not leaving this Tower until we ask a few more questions. And he’s not staying on the accommodation level either…that’s more for his safety.” Natasha said, glancing at Clint.

“Where is he going to stay then?” I asked.

“Stark has a holding area in the lower levels, it was originally for employees that he thought were stealing tech. Except he threw them in there with out following proper legal channels. There was a lawsuit, but we still have the holding area. Eric can stay there.”

Natasha came over to me and tried to get Eric to stand up, but I was not moving. 

“Christina, please. It’s the best option we have right now, unless you want to call SHIELD.”

“Absolutely not.” I looked at Eric, he shrugged his shoulders and stood up.

Eric, Natasha and I rode down to the lower levels together in silence. The holding area wasn’t really that bad, nicer than my room at the SHIELD training centre anyway.

“I’ll come see you tomorrow. After we sort a few more things out.”

“I’m really sorry, I really am.”

“I know.” I hugged him, then Natasha closed the door between us.


	27. Lockdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FUBAR

Less than eight hours ago, I had been happy. I was going to graduate from the SHIELD Academy, continue my relationship with Clint and start moving forward with my life. Now my life was, upside-down…no that wasn’t a strong enough word. My life was now FUBAR…fucked up beyond all recognition.

Natasha took the elevator back up to the accommodations level, I took the stairs. I needed time to think and try to get my thoughts in some semblance of order before facing everyone again.

Eric betrayed me to HYDRA and I defended him. I mulled that over for seven or eight flights. I, too, had once inadvertently given information to HYDRA. There was no way I was going to let my mother be right by being ‘the pot calling the kettle black.’ I decided I was going to stick with my decision to defend Eric and not hate him for the rest of my life, maybe just the next few days. 

Next problem, Jamie was alive. I sat down somewhere around the twenty-sixth floor, and put my head in my hands.

_Jamie was alive…I’m still married…shit, I technically cheated on my husband…wait, do I care about that? Nope, don’t care about that. Now, what about the 'helping SHIELD get the information from him' problem. Could I do that, could I sit in a room with him and listen to all the shit he would say about me just to get information that may, or may not be helpful…I wonder if Stark has divorce lawyer on payroll….no focus, divorce would be easy, I have cause…do I want to help SHIELD…am I strong enough to face him?_

I groaned, stood up and started my trek up the stairs once again. I made it to about the thirtieth floor when all the lights went out and sirens started wailing.

*********

“Nat, where’s Christina?”

Natasha walked into the accommodation level. Clint, Steve and Bruce were at the bar, each with a large glass of amber liquid.

“Don’t worry, Clint. She’s taking the stairs; she needed some time to think.”

“She’s taking the stairs? We’re on the eighty second floor; she’ll be walking for hours.” Bruce said, slightly astonished.

“She has a lot to think about.”

“I’m going to go find her.” Clint said, putting his glass down and moving towards the stairwell door.

“Let her be. She needs some time alone. A lot has happened to her today. Just give her some space. She’ll come to you when she’s ready.”

“Nat, I can’t. I need to be with her.”

“This isn’t about you, Clint. This is about her. Nat’s right, just let her be.” Steve said, Bruce nodding along.

Clint stopped, half turned to the stairwell door, half to his team. He was torn between listening to them and going to the woman he was so desperately in love with. He moved to open the stairwell door when all the lights went out and a siren rent the air.

At that moment, they stopped being a group of friends and became the Avengers. Natasha pulled a gun from somewhere on her person, Steve ducked behind the bar and came up with his shield, Bruce stood, fists clenched at his side, taking deep calming breaths, Clint pulled the knives—that he conveniently forgot to put away—from his belt.

“What’s going on? Is this a fire drill?” Steve asked, looking around the room, preparing himself for anything that may come from the shadows.

“Stark Towers is on lock-down. There is a viable threat against us.”

Tony walked into the great room from the adjoined Iron Man landing pad, in the process of removing his Iron Man suit.

“Tony, what kind of threat? What should we be expecting?” Steve asked coming from behind the bar, shield up, eyes roaming.

With unspoken synchrony Clint and Natasha had moved to the middle of the room and were standing back to back.

“Fury called. Jamie Heron…who is alive, did you guys know that? Jamie Heron escaped SHIELD custody.”

“Wait, if we’re expecting an attack, shouldn’t the lights be on?” Bruce asked.

“Oh, yeah…JARVIS…lights on. I may have initiated the wrong lockdown procedure. I’ve got a bunch of different lockdown procedures; this one may have been for me to hide from an extra clingy lady friend. We need to go extract Christina from where ever she went when she left SHIELD…hey, where’s Barton running off to?”

The moment that Tony said Jamie had escaped from SHIELD, Clint vaulted over the sofa and ran to the stairwell.

“Christina is here, in the Tower. Barton and Banner picked her up at the bar you tried to buy. Her friend Eric is here as well. She’s taking the stairs up from the holding cells.” Steve explained.

‘Why was she in the holding levels…she’s walking up eighty-two floors?”

“Apparently Eric was spying for HYDRA, so Nat put him in the holding area. And Christina has a lot to think about, so she’s taking the stairs. I would think Clint’s gone to get her.”

“You know Bruce, you’re truly one of the great thinkers of our time.” Tony walked to the bar and helped himself to Clint’s abandoned glass. “We’re really going to need to have a talk with _Agent Barton_ about the people he brings home with him.”

“Tony, she’s one of us and Clint loves her.” Nat said, still turning in slow circles in the middle of the room.

“Well, bully for love then.” Tony raised the glass in his hand and drained it. “But if my Tower gets trashed again, he’s paying for it.”

*********

When the lights went off, I stopped moving. Maybe it was a fire drill…maybe I should start going back down the stairs. Shit, what if the building was on fire? Eric was locked in a cell in the basement, he’d be trapped. I turned to go back to him, to figure out a way to get him out. 

I had barely made it a half flight down when the lights came back on.

“Ummm…JARVIS?” I called into the stairwell, uncertain if the AIs reach included creepy stairwells.

“Yes, Ms. Crane?”

“What’s going on?”

“Mr. Stark has put the building on lock-down. Please proceed to the accommodations level.”

“Do you know why we’re on lock-down?”

“I’m sorry Ms. Crane, that information is above your level of authorization.”

“Right, authorization…awesome.” So, I continued up the stairs. I figured if there really was an emergency JARVIS would tell me, this was probably some form of Stark drill.

It took me a moment to realize the rhythmic pounding I was hearing was not my heart. Who in the right mind walks up eighty-two flights of stairs? Oh, wait, I’m not in the right mind, forgot about that for a moment. I was hearing somebody running down the stairs towards me, fast. I flattened my self up against the stairwell wall, anticipating being run down.

“Clint, what are you doing? I was on my way up.” 

“Come on, we’ve got to get you safe.” He said grabbing my arm and dragging me up the stairs he had just run down. This guy had some serious cardio endurance, I was definitely going to have to put that to the test.

“What do you mean safe. I’m in a concrete stairwell in Stark Towers. I’m pretty damn safe.”

“Jamie escaped from SHIELD; the building is on lock-down.”


	28. Bait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A plan is hatched

“I’m sorry,” I said, pulling my arm back from Clint’s grasp, “I must have some crazy in my ears. I thought I just heard you say Jamie escaped from SHIELD…but that can’t be right.”

“Christina, baby, Tony just arrived. Fury called him; Jamie escaped. The building is on lock-down. We need to get to the rest of the team.”

I stopped, stopped everything. I stopped breathing, stopped moving, my mind was blank.

“No.”

“We’ve got to keep moving, and get out of this stairwell.” Clint grabbed my arm again and started pulling. “Christina, please. We need to move.”

Clint led us up to the stairwell exit. This floor was some type of administration floor, full of cubicles and offices. He pulled out his phone and I heard him murmuring to someone on the other end, “I’ve got her, we’re on, thirty-six. Are the elevators clear?”

“Oh, good, we don’t have to walk anymore?” I had sunk down into the nearest chair, my body not willing to hold itself upright any longer.

“JARVIS scanned the building, the only people in it right now are us and the rest of the team. We’ll take the elevator.”

“See, that’s just what a bad guy would want you to think, that you’re all alone and safe, and then WHAM! They jump out from behind a door and stab you.” I said, smacking my hands together, making Clint jump slightly. “Zombie movie logic, it’s applicable in almost all situations.”

“No one is going to stab you. Get in the elevator.”

“You have knives, you could stab me.”

Clint still had the kitchen knives he had grabbed earlier. He hadn’t had a chance to get a better weapon, his mind too focused on getting to you.

“I’m not going to stab you. Come on.” Clint said motioning for me to get out of the chair.

“How do I know you’re not going to stab me? You could be a bad guy.”

“What?”

“Jamie is alive. Eric was feeding HYDRA info on me. With the way my day is going, you’re probably going to stab me, it’d be a hat trick.”

“You don’t really think that…do you?”

“Why not, everyone else I have ever loved or cared about has fucked me over. It’s your turn now.”

Clint knelt in front of me, his hands on my thighs. “I would never do anything to hurt you, ever. I need you to know that. No matter what happens, no matter where we are or what’s going on, I will always protect you and keep you safe.” He stood up and put his hands on the arms of the chair I was sitting in, leaned down and kissed me. “I love you.”

My resolve hardened at that moment, I had to get away from this amazing, wonderful man. I couldn’t bring him down with me, not into the shit show that was my life. How could I have ever thought that I would have a chance at happiness, at a normal-ish life with this man. It was selfish, and I had to end it. I had to leave before he or any of his friends were hurt because of me.

“I love you, too.” I stood up, grabbed his hand and followed him into the elevator. My exit plan was starting to come together in my head. I just needed an opportunity to make it happen.

We didn’t go to the accommodations level, we stopped at the floor where I had told my life story to these people. This time they were sitting around the donut shaped conference table. My face and Jamie’s were up on the screens at the front of the room, details of our lives scrolling beside the pictures. It looked like what the movies showed when the world leaders were in a room making big decisions about the fate of the world.

“Could we maybe take all that down?” I asked, entering the room. “It’s a bit disconcerting.”

“Ma’am, we need to understand the threat we are up against.” Steve said, standing as I sat at the table, ever the gentleman.

“Yeah, we’ll it’s not your threat. It’s mine. This has a very simple solution. I go out, Jamie finds me, one of us dies. Pretty straight forward.”

“We’re a team. We do this together.”

“No, Steve. You guys are a team. I’m not even on the roster, I’m maybe a spectator at best. I can’t have any of you risking your lives for me. No one else is going to die because of my mistakes…the aforementioned two parties excluded, of course.”

Clint walked up behind me and put his hands on my shoulders. “You don’t have a choice, we’re helping you, we’re making this right. Whether you want our help or not.”

“No one here is walking away from this, no one here is walking away from you. We worked so hard to get your abilities under control. Moreover, you’re my friend. Avengers or not, I’m with you.” Bruce, reaching across the table to take my hand.

_Shit._ I thought. My exit plan was going to be harder to execute than I originally thought.

“Alright, what’s the plan then? I still think making me bait is the best bet.”

“That’s our last option.” Natasha said, moving to a computer terminal. “Fury sent us everything SHIELD and the Canadian government have on the asshole. We just need to find a weakness. You were married to the guy for two years…”

“I’m still technically married to him, you all do realize that, right?” Clint’s hands tightened on my shoulders, I wasn’t sure if it was a reassuring squeeze or an ‘I fucked a married woman’ squeeze, but this wasn’t the moment to clarify.

“That’s not important, right now. I need you to think, every man, every single one, has a weakness. What is his?” Natasha pulled up Jamie’s records from Central. Accolades for taking down terrorist cells, commendations for cracking encryptions, multiple credits and tributes for him saving lives, scrolled across the screen.

“His ego. That’s his weakness. He can’t lose, he can’t even come in second. He has to win; he has to be the one in the spotlight.”

“Wonderful, so we’ll have a pie eating contest. We’ll invite Thor, the Hulk, and the Captain over and this guy will have to come out to prove his worth.”

“Tony, that doesn’t help.”

“Why? Are you jealous that I wasn’t going to invite you, Natasha?”

“Guys, we’re back to using me as bait. I’m what he wants, he wants to torture me and punish me for…well, for killing him. We need to make me available, but unattainable. It may draw him out, put him somewhere where we can set the rules. He’ll totally see that it’s a trap, but he’ll think he’s too good, to smart to get caught up in the trap.”

“There is no way to do that and guarantee your safety.”

“Natasha, my safety is the least important thing right now. I have no idea what he was planning with HYDRA, but if he’s free to join up with them again, it won’t be good.”

“I know my pie eating contest idea didn’t go over well, but I’ve got better idea.”

“Spill it Tony.” I said.

“The Stark Relief Fund is having a creative black-tie fundraiser Saturday evening. We’d be able to control the scene. Put Christina in a nice dress, Barton in a tux…then wait for the bastard to come to us.”

“Why am I wearing a tux?”

“Because you’d be my date. “

“Exactly. And you’re not getting into one of my fundraisers wearing, that.” Tony waved his hand at Clint’s t-shirt and jeans ensemble.

“I don’t want to wear a tux.”

“Don’t be my date then. I’ll take Bruce or Steve.”

“Wait. No. Fine, I’ll wear a tux. Hang on, we’re going with this plan? We’re going to use Christina as bait?”

“Yuppers. I’ll add you two to the guest list.” Tony said and pulled out his tablet.

“I guess I need to get a dress.”


	29. Exit Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The best laid plans of mice...

We left the ‘war room’ each with our own part of the plan to work on. Quite frankly I wasn’t too worried about my part of the plan, since I had no intention of being around for the fundraiser.

Clint had left the meeting before I did, muttering about monkey suits and no pockets for weapons. I wasn’t terribly shocked to find him laying on the bed in what was apparently my room when I entered.

“Hi.” I said, suddenly feeling shy.

“Hi.”

We looked at each other, an awkwardness I’d never felt with him filled the room.

“Are you going to tell me your exit plan? Or do I need to wait until you try to make it happen?” Clint asked, staring up at the ceiling.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” I sat in the armchair next to the bed. Not yet wanting to join him.

“Don’t fuck around with me. You caved too easily when I got you into the elevator, you went along with Tony’s plan without question. You have a plan to get out of here and try to solve this yourself. What is it?”  


“Well, I was going to get you out of the way first, I figured you’d be the easiest. I’m guessing Natasha is doing patrol, but I’d distract her with Bruce, make him go a bit green…she’s got it bad for him and I think he feels the same. Tony, I’d screw around with JARVIS so he’d have to focus on his AI…you know he doesn’t care about me at all. Steve would be the hardest, but I’m pretty sure if I ran up to him in my unmentionables and said everyone was in trouble, he’d get distracted and come to everyone’s rescue.”

“What about Eric?”

_Shit…I forgot about Eric_.

“Forgot about him, did you? Do you really think you could get down eighty something floors and back up to ground level without one of us stopping you?”

“I’d find a way.”

“I’m sure you’d try. Come here, babe.” He looked at me and spread his arms, an open invitation to join him on the bed.

“I’m fine, thanks. And since you figured out my diabolical plan, I need to come up with a new one.”

Clint got up off of the bed, scooped me up and dumped me on the bed.

“Your plan isn’t going to work.” He climbed on the bed and straddled my hips. “Everyone here is volunteering to help you, no one is being forced.” He slid his hands under my shirt. “Why do you want to escape so badly?” He pulled my shirt over my head. “And why, do you think I’d be the easiest one to deal with.” He leaned down and kissed along my neck.

“You just asked two questions, which do you want answered first?” I asked, my hands twining in his hair.

“Why do you want to escape so badly?” He kissed the soft spot under my ear and down my jaw line.

“Because, this is bad and it’s my problem. None of yours, I can’t have any one else’s blood on my hands.”

“You’re one of us, and we protect each other, no matter what.” His hands slipped behind me, unhooked my bra, quite deftly. “Why did you think I’d be the easiest to deal with?” He slipped my bra straps off my arms and threw the bra behind him.

“I figured I could distract you with sex, tie you up and fuck you into oblivion. You’d be out like a light before I was gone and long after.”

“As much of a distraction as you may be; as much as I want you to fuck me into oblivion; you’d never get to tie me up, I wouldn’t allow it.” He pinned my arms above my head with one hand and cupped my exposed breast with the other. “I’m the only one who gets to play with knots.”

“But I could tucker you out pretty good, though.”

“You could sure try.” He kissed down my neck, along my collar bone and took one of my nipples into his mouth.

“Clint, stop.” I sat up, pushing as much of him off of me as I could.

“Why?”

“You’re not fighting fair.”

“And planning on fucking me into submission in order to run away is fighting fair?” He asked climbing back on top of me.

“No, but seeing as how I’m marked woman, in order to keep the people I love safe, sometimes fighting dirty is the only option.”

“You can be as dirty as you want. I dig it. But you don’t get to run away. We’re in this together. Do you understand?” His mouth found my nipple again, he peered up at me, through his eyelashes.

“I’m still married.”

“A piece of paper does not a marriage make.” He flicked his tongue and bit down, making my hips buck against him.

“Clint,” I moaned my hands running from his shoulders to his neck and back again, “are you sure?”

“Sure about what?” He undid my belt. “Sure that we’ll all fight for you?” He undid the button on my jeans. “Sure that I want to be a part of you life?” He lowered my zipper. “Sure that I don’t give a shit that you’re technically still married?” He pulled my jeans off and tossed them with my bra. “Sure that I love you and would do anything for you?” He pulled down my thong and sling-shot it over his shoulder. “I’m pretty damn sure about all of it.” He bent his head down and kissed me softly on my lips. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

He kissed me slowly and deeply, his hands roaming my body, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“You’re wearing too many clothes.”

“Then do something about it.” He rolled off of me and laid on the bed.

“You’re not going to help?”

“Nope. You’ve got the exit plan, let’s see you make it work”

I slowly undressed him; he wasn’t helping at all…dead weight on the bed. When he was as naked as I was, I went to work. 

“mmmm…. babe, what are you doing?”

“Well, you’ve made me come undone with your tongue; I think it’s time I returned the favour.”

I gripped the base of his shaft and took him in my mouth, the salty-bitter taste of him filling my senses. I covered my teeth with my lips and slid up my mouth up and down his length. The moan he let out was more than enough to let me know I was on the right track.

I looked up at him, he had one arm thrown over his eyes, the other gripping the bed sheets. I moved my head faster, opening my throat to take him deeper.

“Ohhh, fuck, baby, I’m going…I’m’ going…I’m going to come if you keep going.” Clint panted.

“Isn’t that the point?” I pulled back, took a breath and devoured him once more.

He started to roll his hips; I knew he was close. His breaths came short and shallow. He grabbed the back of my head, holding me still, pushed his hips against me and “…oh…shit…yes…” he moaned as he came in my mouth.

Clint released my head and stroked down the back of my neck. “Did you just swallow my come?”

“Umm…yes…” I said as I moved up the bed to lay next to him.

“That is so fucking hot.” 

He pulled me to him, pressing his body against mine.

“Clint…it’s been a long day…I found out my husband is still alive and escaped SHILED custody, I got drunk, found out my best friend was giving info on me to HYDRA, walked up thirty odd flights of stairs…I’m tired. Can we not?”

“This is not at all how I imagined our first night together would go when you got back from training.”

“Me either. Can we please just sleep?” I laid my head on his chest, stroking my hands along his abdomen.

“If that’s what you want.” He reached down and pulled the blankets up over us, and wrapped his arms around me.

“Clint…?”

“Yeah, babe?” He muttered into my hair, obviously more tired than he wanted to let on.

“You had a gun at SHILED, where did it go? ‘Cause you only had knives with Eric.”

“I locked it in the glove box of Bruce’s car. Tony has a thing about guns in the Towers during peace time.”

“Ahhh.” I snuggled closer to him. “…Clint?”

“Yeah?”

“I think Eric should take me to the fundraiser.”

“Ok.” He said, half asleep. “Wait. What?”


	30. The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plan is made.

“Hang on…you want Eric to be your ‘date’ to the fundraiser…. I may be too tired; I’m not hearing you right…. explain.”

“Ugh…well, you’re intimidating and scary and intense. If Jamie were to see you with me, yeah, he’d think that you’re a challenge and want to challenge you. But he’d be too smart to do it in public, so that would foil the fundraiser plan. Eric, on the other hand, is not nearly as intimidating as you…”

“I’ll agree with that statement.”

“Shut up, Clint.” I smacked him lightly on the shoulder. “Jamie will still know it’s a trap, but he may be more willing to make a public play.”

“Won’t he realize that Eric is a pawn?”

“Possibly…but, he may also think that I have shit taste in men. His arrogance, and hatred for me, will blind him.”

“I don’t like this at all.” Clint said, running his hands down my back.

“Hun, what do you think creative black-tie means?”

“I dun no, whatever Stark picks out?”

“Hmmmmm…that’s what I thought.” I said, nuzzling against his neck. “It’s adding a pop of colour to your tux, not enough to negate the formality of black tie, but just enough to make it your own.”

“Babe, it’s too late to talk about this kind of shit. If all you want to do is sleep tonight, can we talk about this in the morning, when I’m awake enough to protest you dressing me up and-or taking someone else on a date?”

“Of course, Hawkeye. So long as you remember how amicable you are being right now.”

“I make no promises.” 

That’s the last thing I remember him saying before we drifted off to sleep in each others arms.

I woke before Clint and was rinsing my hair in the shower when felt someone else behind me. I spun around, almost falling on the slippery floor.

“Hey, easy.” It was Clint. He caught me and pulled me upright.

“Maybe if you stopped sneaking up on me it would be easier.” I pulled his face down and gave him a quick kiss. “Shower sex?” I asked, wiggling my eyebrows.

“Actually, no.” He grabbed the shampoo and started on his hair. “Are you on anything?”

“On anything? What do you mean…. ohhhh, birth control. Yeah, no…shit.”

“That’s what I figured.” He sluiced his hair and pulled me to him. “It’s not that I don’t want a brood of mini-Bartons running around, and it’s not that I don’t want them with you. I just want to do this one thing in my life right.”

“What do you mean right?”

“Not as an accident or an afterthought. Not with a target on your back. Not without a ring on your finger.”

“What’s the plan then? Take down Jamie and then you get down on one knee?”

“Essentially, yes. I’ve gotta’ buy a ring first, but, yeah. That’s the plan.”

“We hardly know each other; how could you possibly want to marry me? Oh, and I'm still technically married.”

“Probably because I love you. And we can take care of the paperwork to get that asshole out of your life, permanently, once all this is over.”

“You are an idiot.”

“True. But I’m a lovable idiot.”

We finished our shower and went to find the rest of the team.

“I had a thought.” I said grabbing a banana off of the counter.

“We’re screwed.”

“Shut up, Tony.” I threw the peel at him. “I think it should be Eric that goes with me to the fundraiser.”

“Yup, screwed.”

“I’m serious, hear me out. Clint is the obvious choice; however, no one will come anywhere near me since he kind of puts off an overprotective vibe. If I bring Eric, I’d be much more approachable, and we may get a chance to see how far in Eric really is. And I don’t think we’d be able to get Clint into a tux.”

“She’s right. How do you feel about this, Clint?” Natasha asked.

“It’s stupid and I hate it.”

“This is the new plan then. I’ll set you up with Pepper’s personal shopper to get you and Eric some decent apparel.”

“Tony, did you not just hear me say this plan is stupid and I hate it?”

“Yup. And that means it’s a good plan. Any plan you come up with or approve of is going to go to shit.”

“I’m going to go get Eric. Before anyone changes their mind.” I said.

“No, Christina, you stay here. I’ll get him.” Clint said moving towards the elevator.

“That’s a stupid idea Clint and I hate it.”

“I’m just going to explain to him what’s going on and what happens if he tries anything stupid.”

“You are the king of stupid.” Tony said, tossing the peel into the trash.

Clint went to the elevators flipping off Tony the entire way.

“Alright, now that he’s gone, we need to discuss how this fundraiser is going to go.” Natasha said turning to me as soon as the elevator doors closed.

“I thought we had that figured out.” I said.

“You and Eric go in, and then what, what do you plan on doing, Christina?”

“Wait for Jamie to show up?”

“And what if he doesn’t?”

“Eric and I dance and I get drunk…?”

“Ok, rookie, here’s how it’s going to go. You and Eric show up and act like nothing is wrong, you’re just there to have fun. I doubt Jamie will be there, he’ll send a lackey. You let him take you and we follow.”

I stared at Natasha, blinked a few times and said “the fuck? You want me to be taken?”

“You are not causing a scene at my fundraiser, so absolutely you are being taken away from there before Barton busts in and starts shooting arrows at my guests.”

“Steve and I will be on your tail the whole time. We’ll keep you safe. That and if you need to, you can always light ‘em up and defend yourself.” Natasha said winking and pointing at my hands.

“What about Clint? How do we know he won’t jump the gun and do something…something unwise?”

“You’ll have to deal with him…remember how you knocked out Bruce…same idea. Knock him out and Bruce will stay here and keep an eye on him.”

“Oh, he’s going to fucking love that.” I ran my hands through my hair. “I’ll stun him tomorrow, before we leave.”

“Excellent, now all you need is a dress. Do you need me to come shopping with you again?”

“Nah, I’ll bring Eric, he’s pretty good at picking stuff out.”

“He’s good at picking out stuff that makes you look like...”

I hadn’t realized Clint and Eric had entered the room.

“Barton, I strongly suggest that you don’t finish that sentence.” Natasha said raising one of her eyebrows.

“Christina.” Eric ran up to me and wrapped me in a hug. “That was the scariest fucking elevator ride of my life. Do you know how intense that guy is?”

“I have a pretty good idea.”

“So, this is how I make everything up to you?”

“Yes. Are you ok with it? If you’re not, tell me, we’ll come up with a new plan.”

“No. I’m in.”

“Sweet. Let’s go shopping.”


	31. Shopping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We find a dress

One of Tony’s drivers took Eric and I to the fanciest boutique I had ever seen in my life, Natasha came as well. She said it was for our protection, but with the way she was ogling the shoe display, I suspected she had ulterior motives.

“Try this on.” Eric said, holding up a garish short, red beaded number.

“No. I’m not wearing that.”

“Come on, you need to be noticed and this will get you noticed.”

“Again. No. I need to be noticed, but going for elegant black-tie dress, not a flapper slut.”

“Hmmm,” He looked at the dress again. “Good point.”

“This one, it’s this one.” Natasha had pulled herself away from the shoes and walked over holding up a deep purple, trumpet flare, long lace sleeved dress.

I went to the fitting room and tried on the dress. It hugged my body, the lace flowing out around my ankles. I looked sexy and elegant. I exited the fitting room and Eric applauded…he applauded Natasha. 

“You and I are going shopping more together my dear. You picked a winner.”

“We’ve picked my outfit, what are you going to wear, Eric?”

“You’re wearing purple, so I think I’m going to get this.” He held up a crushed velvet purple tuxedo coat with black lapels and matching bow tie. “We’ll be the bells of the ball.”

We brought our purchases up to the registers, Natasha sneaking in a pair of black Louboutin boots with red soles. I looked questioningly at Natasha and she said, “meh, Tony’s footing the bill.”

We got back to the towers and Eric and I stowed our purchases in my room.

“Now what?” Eric asked. “The fundraiser isn’t until tomorrow, so what do we do until then?”

“I have no idea. They probably get weapons ready, do some final strategizing, a whole montage of getting ready…like in the movies!”

I could not have been more wrong.

Tony, Bruce, Steve, and Natasha were in the kitchen. There were pizza boxes, bags of chips and cookies strewn about.

“What are you guys doing?” I asked.

“Everyone thinks prepping for a mission is like what they see on the movies. That’s not how we operate.” Tony said opening one of the pizza boxes. “We eat, drink and make merry for tomorrow we may die.”

“Wait. What. Seriously?” Eric looked a bit shocked.

“Don’t worry, we won’t let you die. Christina may kill us if we let you die. Come on, it’s movie time.” Natasha grabbed a plate of cookies and moved towards the sofa.

“This is not at all what I expected.” I sat down, Eric sitting next to me, his look of shock mimicking what I was feeling.

“It’s good to plan, but not over plan; relax and have a good night’s sleep.” Natasha passed me a cookie.

“Ok. What are we watching?”

“21 Jump Street…Nat has a thing for Channing Tatum.” Clint said, appearing once again out of nowhere, hopping over the back of the sofa, settling himself behind me.

“Shut up Barton.” She threw a pillow at him, smacking him in the face.

“Who doesn’t?” Eric and I said at the same time. Nat smiled at us and then smirked at Clint.

Clint pulled me into his lap and wrapped his arms around me.

“No fucking on my sofa, Barton. There’s already a knife hole in it, which I presume is from you. I don’t need any of your love stains to match.”

“You’re an ass, Stark.” Clint said, pulling me closer.

“I don’t get this.” Steve said suddenly.

“What don’t you get?” I asked, pulling away from Clint a bit, concerned that our PDA may be making him a bit uncomfortable.

“This movie. It makes no sense. These old guys are supposed to be in high school, who would believe that?”

“Oh, Steve, this is a remake of a TV show from the 80’s…where are you in your discovery of what’s happened since you went into the ocean?” I asked, trying to stifle a laugh.

“I’m up to ‘I Love Lucy,’ and Elvis…not really a fan of either.”

“Steve, I want to watch this movie. Shut it.” Natasha said, not taking her eyes from the screen.

“Sorry, Nat.”

“Did you get a dress?” Clint asked, pulling my hair aside to murmur in my ear.

“Yes, sir, I did. It’s sexy, but not slutty. You’d approve.”

“Do I get to see it?”

“Tomorrow, before we go out. I’ll give you a private fashion show.”

“Do I get to see from start to finish?” He kissed along my neck and ran a palm down my thigh.

“Can it, guys!”

“Sorry, Nat!” Clint and I said in tandem.

“What did I say about fucking on my couch!?!” Tony said. “I want to see all hands at all times.”

“Yes, Dad.” Clint said rolling his eyes, shifting me more onto him. I assumed to hide the growth in his pants.

The movie ended, Steve still grumbling about it making no sense and Natasha looking incredibly happy. 

“Do I have to go back down to the basement?” Eric asked, standing and stretching.

“Are you going to try to kill any of us in our sleep? Or let any HYDRA operatives into my Tower?” Tony asked.

“Of course not!”

“Then there is a room across the hall from Christina’s. But if you try anything stupid, no one here will stop Barton.”

“Come on, Eric. I’ll show you your room.” I grabbed his hand and pulled him down the corridor.

“This room is the shit.” Eric said standing in the middle of the room. 

“Tell me about it! I’ve got one too. Are you going to be ok in here?”

“Yeah, I think so.” He walked up to me and took both my hands in his. “This thing with you and Hawkguy…”

“Hawkeye!”

“Fine, Hawkeye…it’s serious, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. He said he wants to marry me, make babies and such.”

“Wow. Can I come to the wedding?”

“Eric, you’re my best man, whenever I get married, doesn’t matter to who.”

“I love you, Christina.”

“I love you too. Get some sleep. We have a big day tomorrow.”


	32. Our Last Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last night before the fundraiser

“Ready for bed, babe?”

Once again, I walked into my room to find Clint laying on my bed. This time, without hesitation, I went and laid next to him.

“This is becoming a habit of yours…claiming my bed when I’m not around.”

“I was thinking of it more as our bed.”

“Well then get your boots off of our bed.”

“You know, when I get you home, we’re going to have a chat about this ‘boots on the bed’ rule.” He pulled his legs up towards his waist and attempted to remove his boots. “Ow, fuck.” He somehow managed to hit himself in the face with one of them.

“Clint, where is home for you? When we met you said you didn’t live in New York…I feel like you know a lot about me, but I know very little about you.” I rolled onto my side and raised my head up on my hand.

“If you really want to know…”

“I do. Please, I do.”

“I’m originally from Iowa. My dad was an abusive drunk, him and my mom died in a car crash because he was drunk; my brother and I were sent to foster care, it sucked. We ran away and joined the circus…”

I snorted a laugh.

“No. Really, I joined the circus, it’s where I learned archery and acrobatics. I got in with some bad people, then some good people. I was recruited by SHIELD and here we are.”

“How did you lose your hearing? I presume you weren’t born deaf.”

“It was a mix of different things. A few times my dad hit me so hard I lost hearing, I guess he burst my ear drums or something. It got worse when I was fighting this guy and had an issue with a sonic arrow.” He shrugged like it was no big deal and happened to everyone.

“You were married?”

“Yeah, um a couple of times…”

“Really?” I said, my voice going up at least an octave.

“Yeah, to a woman who worked for SHIELD…that ended bad, she didn’t want to settle down, she was all about the mission. Then to Laura, who wanted to settle down, but not with me…I guess.”

“If things don’t go well tomorrow…”

“Christina, these are the things that we don’t talk about before missions.”

“Fine. I won’t tell you I love you and that the little time we’ve been together has been the happiest I’ve been in my whole life.”

“Me too, babe, me too.”

He pulled me on top of him and kissed me gently, stroking his hands up and down my back.

“What happened to no birth control, no sex? If I know you right…and I’d like to think I do, you’re trying to get some.”

“If things don’t go well tomorrow…”

“Clint, I thought these were the kind of things we don’t talk about before a mission.” I tried my best to mock his tone.

“I want to spend tonight in your arms, loving you every way I can. I may have made a stop at the drug store today; I’ve got this covered. Or at least I will.”

“Always the strategist.”

“You know it.”

And then he was kissing me again, nibbling at my ear, sucking a long my neck…suddenly something in him shifted. He was no longer being gentle. He pulled me down against him, kissing me like he’d never see me again. I kissed him back with the same ferocity. We made short work of our clothing, pants and shirts ricocheting off of lamps and knickknacks.

He sat up quickly, almost throwing me off of him, I wrapped my legs around his hips. I could feel his erection pushing against me, sliding along my folds slipping in my wet heat. Clint groaned against my throat and reached into the bedside table. I heard a crinkle of foil; he reached between us and slipped the condom on. 

With a thrust of his hips he was inside of me, my head fell back as I took him all in, impaling my self on him. I rode him, hard. Matching his movement, driving down when he thrust up. He slid his hand between us and stroked my clit, the pleasure was almost overwhelming, almost.

“Yes, baby, ride me…you feel so fucking good.” He put his head between my breasts, his free hand digging into the flesh of my back. “I’m not going to last…baby… I think…oh, fuck…I’m coming.” He put both hands on my waist and pulled me tight against him as he thrust one last time. I tightened my walls around him, drawing out the last of his orgasm.

Clint collapsed back against the pillows and threw an arm over his eyes. “Baby, I’m sorry, it’s been so long. I couldn’t…fuck, I’m sorry.”

I laid down on him and kissed his jaw. “It’s quite all right. In fact, I’m pretty sure I owe you a few…remember, from when you were doing your penance?”

“Still, I should be able to hold out so you…”

“Clint, seriously stop.” I pushed myself up, pulled his arm away from his face and looked him in the eye. “I’m going to tell you something that no other person alive knows.”

He wrinkled his forehead, looking concerned. “What?”

“You have made me come more in the past seven months than any other person, or combination of persons, has done over my entire life—myself excluded of course.”

“You were married.”

“To an asshole who gave zero fucks about me.”

“Was he the only guy you, you know…?”

“Far from it. They just never seemed to be able to figure me out. Or there’s a fair chance I just never relaxed enough to let it happen.”

“If I’m hearing this right, you’re saying I’m the best you’ve ever had?”

“Again, excluding myself from the equation…yes.”

Clint moved quickly, rolling me onto my side, spooning me.

“Will you show me?” He asked, his voice low and husky.

“Show you what?”

“How you please yourself.”

“If we make it past tomorrow, I’ll give you a show.”

“I love you so fucking much.”


	33. Fundraiser

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony throws a fundraiser.

I took my time getting ready for the evening. I took a long leisurely shower, moisturized every inch of skin and slipped into my dress. I was just putting the finishing touches on my hair and make up when I caught movement behind me in the mirror.

“You look amazing.” Clint said coming into our room. “I thought you were going to let me watch you get ready.”

“I have a feeling if you watched me get ready, I’d never get ready in time.” I sat down in the chair and put on my shoes.

“Here, I brought you this.” He handed me what looked like a lace garter.

“Ummm…thanks?” I said, taking the scrap of lace from him.

“It goes on your thigh, and these go in it.” He dropped a pair of leather sheathed throwing knives into my lap. “Here, like this.”

He knelt down in front of me, picked up the garter and slid it up my leg, I shivered at his touch.

“You wear it here, and the knives slip in, like this. It’s almost invisible, no one should notice it unless they have their hands on your thigh. If anyone puts a hand on your thigh, other than me, stab them.” His voice was almost a whisper.

Clint’s hands lingered under my dress, stroking my skin.

“Christina, I’m still not ok with this plan. It should be me going with you.”

“The plan is to let him get close to me so we can end this. If you’re with me, not a soul would come with in fifteen feet of me.”

“I’d behave.”

“Clint, I love you…and I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

I put my hands on either side of his head, he looked up at me half smiling. The smile disappeared from his face, his eyes went blank and he slumped to the floor.

_Shit_ , I thought. _I probably should have stunned him on the bed._

I quickly checked his pulse and breathing…. everything was good. I stood to leave the room, but dropped back down, giving Clint a quick kiss before I left. I doubt it registered since he was very unconscious.

“How did it go?” Natasha asked me as I entered the great room. She was wearing a black leather and Lycra cat suit with a variety of weapons strapped to her wrists and thighs.

“He’s out. He’s going to be so pissed at me.”

“I’m certain he’ll forgive you. You look great, by the way. Did Clint get to see you before you stunned him?”

“Yea. And! He gave me this.” I hiked my dress up to show off the knife holder Clint had outfitted me with.

“How very romantic.” Natasha said, rolling her eyes.

“Meh, it’s the thought that counts. Right?”

“What’s on your wrist?”

“It’s the pendant from the necklace Clint gave me while I was in training. The necklace didn’t work with this outfit, but using it as a charm for this bracelet seems to be ok. Where is Steve? I thought he was coming along.”

“He’s already at the venue, doing preliminary surveillance. I’m following you and Eric until you get in the doors, then I’m a ghost.”

“And what a terrifying ghost you would be.” Bruce said coming in from the labs. “Barton’s already out?”

Natasha and I nodded.

“Is there any way we could tie him up or something? I’m not sure how well the big guy will take getting shot by an arrow when he wakes up.”

“He should be out for a while. I think I hit him harder than you…but his vitals were good when I left him.” I quickly added, catching Natasha and Bruce’s worried looks. “Where’s Eric?”

“I’m right here. You look great!”

“I really wish everyone wouldn’t sound so shocked when I get all fancied up.”

Eric, Natasha and I went down to the garage, Tony had lent Eric and I one of his Audi's. Not too fancy and not too expensive, apparently Tony was worried we’d hurt one of his cars.

“Ok you two. Just remember, stick together. Your cover story, you were on duty during the Battle of New York and were given tickets as a thank you. No one will believe you’re donors to the cause…sorry it’s true. And, since the cover story is true, it shouldn’t be that difficult stick with. Don’t accept drinks from anyone. There is a bartender at the main bar who is an Agent. He is the only one you are to get anything from. Understood?”

Eric and I nodded in agreement.

“As for food, the server for your dinner is also an Agent, no food from anyone but her.”

“Hang on, we don’t know what these people look like. How are we to know that we’re going to the right people?” Eric asked.

“They have lapel pins, shaped like Cap’s shield. No food or drink from anyone else.”

“Yes ma’am.” I said going to Natasha and giving her a quick hug. “Thank you for this. And if anything happens, tell Clint…”

“You are not finishing that sentence. We don’t talk about these things before missions.”

“Ugh. Fine. Keys?” 

Natasha threw me a key fob, I went to the car and slid in the driver’s seat.

“Why do you get to drive? I’m the man here, shouldn’t I be driving?”

“First, sexist.” I said looking at Eric as he buckled his seatbelt. “Second, I’ve driven with you before, I don’t want to die _before_ we get there.”

The fundraiser was being held at the Mandarin Oriental ballroom, probably the fanciest room I had ever been in, in my entire life. The attendant at the door verified our names on the guest list. A second attendant in full livery led us to our table.

“Why do I have so many forks?” Eric whispered, leaning over to me.

“I have no fucking clue. Just Titanic it up, work from the outside in.”

“I’m gong to miss you when you’re gone. No one makes random movie references like you.”

After verifying our server had the pin Natasha had mentioned, Eric and I ate our way through six courses. I was starting to regret not wearing some form of Spanx under my dress.

Fortunately, all of the speeches and requests for donations were done during the dinner period, so there wasn’t that painful time after dinner where you had to sit and listen to people yammer on. More events needed to embrace this methodology.

“Come on, let’s go mingle and try to get kidnapped.” Eric pulled me up from the table and led me to the bar. We found our bartender; Eric ordered a Cosmo and I an extra dirty martini. This seemed like a martini kind of day.

“Well don’t you two clean up nicely.”

It was Tony, he looked amazing in a deep burgundy tux. He was accompanied by a lithe red head with knowing eyes.

“Christina, Eric, this is Pepper. Pepper, these are Christina and Eric. Pepper is my number one.”

“It’s very nice to meet you.” I shook her outstretched hand.

“Tony has been telling me that you two were on duty during the Battle and were a big help to his friends.”

“He told you that, did he?” I looked at Tony and narrowed my eyes. “What else has he told you?”

“Oh, just that you and a certain archer are smitten.”

I threw my head back and laughed. “Smitten…that’s…. that’s an appropriate term.”

“We’ll leave you two to get down to business.” Tony bent down to my ear and whispered “don’t fuck up my party, Pepper will kill me.” He dropped me a wink and walked off with Pepper.

“Why are none of your new friend’s gay? They are all so hot and built. It’s not fair.” Eric asked, handing me another martini.

“Did you get this from our guy?” I asked, peering in to the glass as if it could reveal its secrets to me.

“Duh. What do you think I am, and idiot? Or is it you still don’t trust me fully?”

I gave a small apologetic smile and took an appreciative sip of my new drink.

Eric stood next to me and put his hand on the small of my back.

“You’re really far to trusting for this line of work, you know that, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“Hail fucking HYDRA.” Was the last thing I heard before my mind went blank.


	34. Surveillance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nat and Steve keep an eye out

“She really does clean up nice. I mean that dress is much better than the thing she was wearing when she went dancing.” Steve said, watching Christina and Eric walk into the venue.

“Don’t let her hear you say that.” Natasha laughed. “But you’ll probably have Clint on your side.”

“Women did not dress like that in my time.”

“Steve, it’s still your time. Anything on facial recognition?”

“Aside from half of the people in this room being on various watchlists for donating to less than scrupulous causes; being watched for tax fraud and evasion, everything seems to be good so far.”

“Hopefully he makes his move soon, I don’t want to be stuck in this room all night.”

“Do you think if we called Tony, he’d have them send us some food?”

Natasha and Steve had commandeered a room just off of the ballroom, close enough that they could get to Christina if anything went down, but not far enough away that the smell of the meal didn’t penetrate the space.

“Do you ever stop eating?”

“Super soldier metabolism.” Steve said patting his stomach.

“You officially suck. If I ate like you, I’d never fit into this outfit again.”

“I’m going to do a sweep. And you look great, too.” Steve said, turning back in the doorway.

“Thanks, Steve. Be careful.”

Steve wasn’t in his Captain America uniform. He was wearing an outfit similar to what the bus boys were wearing. He was slightly concerned about being recognized, but quickly realized that in this crowd, if you weren’t wearing a thousand-dollar tux, their eyes slid right over you.

“I have eyes on them, they’re talking to Tony and Pepper.”

“Anyone else seem interested in them?”

“A few men are eyeballing Christina, or maybe Eric, it’s kind of hard to tell…is he wearing purple velvet? Nat check out grey hair, black tux at my four o’clock and black hair, black tux next to a woman in green at my five. They seem to be the only ones with lingering eyes.”

“Got ‘em. I’ll run them through the database.”

Steve went back to the surveillance room, stopping to “clear away” a plate of pastries on his way.

“Did you steal dessert?” Natasha questioned as he walked back in the room, his cheeks bulging.

“I commandeered it.” He responded thickly. “Try this white gooey thing. It’s fantastic.” Steve held the plate out to Natasha.

“I’ll pass. Thanks. White gooey isn’t the best description…hang on, my phone is ringing.”

Natasha pulled a comically tiny phone from one of the pockets on her belt, looked at the caller ID and answered.

“Hi Bruce, how’s everything on the home front. I’ve got you on speaker. Steve’s here too.”

“ _Clint’s awake and he’s a bit miffed.”_ Bruce’s voice sounded small and tinny through the speaker.

“What’s that noise?” Steve asked.

“ _He’s trying to break a window with a chair. Tony set JARVIS to keep me and Clint from leaving. All the doors and elevators are locked. His most logical reaction after realizing I couldn’t get JARVIS to open the doors either, has been to try and throw a chair through a window.”_

“Huh. I thought he’d go for the air vents.” A bemused Natasha said smiling at Steve.

“ _Tried that. Tony electrified them or something. He grabbed on, and went down for another twenty minutes. Can one of you guys come back and rescue me?”_

“Bruce, are you in danger?” Steve asked.

“ _Seriously!?! We knocked out Barton to keep him from following his girlfriend, who we are trying to have kidnapped. We have him trapped in Stark Towers, where he hates being under normal circumstances. I’d say I’m in danger. Fortunately, someone hid all of his bows and arrows.”_

“Have you tried calming him down?”

_“Yeah. I offered him a glass of warm milk, Steve.”_

“Did it work?”

“Bruce was being sarcastic, Steve.” Natasha said as Bruce groaned into the phone. “Bruce? Can you try giving Clint the phone?”

“ _Fine. But if anything happens, I am not responsible.”_

Natasha and Steve heard some more muffled crashing sounds and then Bruce trying to get Clint’s attention. Finally, they heard a dull thud.

“ _Banner, did you just throw a phone at me?... Hello? Who the hell is this and what the fuck is going on?”_

“Clint, you know this is for your own good…”

“ _Nat, I swear if you give me the for my own good speech, I’m going to lose my shit.”_

“It sounds like you already have. Christina and Eric are safe, we have eyes on them from every angle, we have Agents placed in the crowd and at the bar. No one is getting to them without us seeing it and immediately following them.”

“ _Please tell me you’re not trying to have her be taken…that if anything happens, you’ll stop it before she’s gone.”_

Natasha and Steve stared at each over the phone, mouthing ‘ _no, you tell him…I’m not telling him…’_ to each other and shaking their heads. Finally, Steve held up one finger, then two fingers, then three fingers and mouthed _‘not it.’_ Natasha dropped her head to her chest and shook her head.

_“This dead air is really reassuring…somebody tell me what is going on. Or my next trick will be to see if the Hulk can smash through one of these windows.”_

“Clint, we want Christina to be taken from the fundraiser. It’s the only way to ensure fewer civilian casualties. Both her and Eric have trackers so we can follow them to wherever they end up.”

“ _Get Tony to unlock the doors, I can’t just sit here waiting.”_

“And we can’t have you interfering here, you’re too close and your judgment is compromised.”

“ _Nat, if anything happens to her…”_

“Clint, we are not going to let anything happen to her. We know what she means to you, and we’re all pretty fond of her too. She’s one of us now.”

“Hang on…where are they going?” Steve tapped Natasha’s arm and pointed to one of the monitors.

“Maybe to the washroom?”

Natasha and Steve watched for a moment as Eric lead Christina through the crowd, avoiding the SHIELD Agents placed around the room.

_“What’s happening?!?!”_

“I’ll call you back, just stay with Bruce.” Natasha hung up on Clint.

“Natasha, they’re not going to the washroom, they’re leaving.”

“Something’s wrong. Look at Christina’s face, she’s mobile but not thinking, here eyes are blank…dead. She’s been drugged or something. Let’s move.”

Steve re-entered the ballroom through kitchen and made his way to the front exit. He could just make out Eric and Christina at the doors. He quickly scanned the room, found Tony, caught his eye and nodded, hoping Tony would catch on that whatever was going to happen was starting now.

Natasha circled round the ballroom and went out a side exit hoping to catch them in the ballroom lobby. Unfortunately, a swell of party goers chose that moment to leave as well. 

“Nat, did you see them go by?” Steve asked coming up to her.

“No, and there’s no way they would have gone by me without me noticing.”

Steve and Natasha turned slow circles in the lobby, looking at every person who went by, scanning all corners and potential hiding spots.

“There!” Steve pointed to the main grand stair well. A flash of purple caught his eye, making its way up the stairs.

“They’re going up?”

“I’ll take the main stairs; you take the emergency stairs.”

They separated and ran to their respective stairwells.

“Steve, I don’t have eyes on them. Do you?”

“No and I’m out of stairs.” The sweeping central staircase had ednded. I’m coming up the emergency stairs behind you.”

They met on a landing a few floors down from the roof.

“Do you think they went into one of the rooms? Wow, that would break Clint’s heart…but we could pull surveillance tape…” 

“Do you hear that?” Natasha said cutting him off.

“Helicopter.”

They bolted up the remaining few flights and stormed on to the roof.

There was no helipad on the roof, a helicopter was hovering a few feet off of the roof. Eric was shoving Christina in.

“Eric, stop!” Natasha shouted, pulling her gun.

Eric turned, waved and climbed in beside Christina.

“Natasha, no!” Steve jumped over to her and pulled her arm down. “You can’t shoot. Christina is in there. We have trackers on them. We can find them.”

A pair of silver heels clattered down on the roof beside them; followed by a pair of cufflinks.

“We had trackers on them Steve.”

“I’m not telling Clint we lost them.”


	35. Clint's Fury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint is mad

Steve and Natasha drove back to the Tower in silence. They had tried following the helicopter from the ground, but lost it in the cloud covered night.

Natasha had turned her phone off, Clint had been calling every two minutes and there was no way she was telling him what happened over the phone.

They found Clint in one of the armchairs scattered around the great room. His elbows were on his knees, his head resting on his fits. It almost looked as if he were at prayer.

“Where is she?” He didn’t move an inch.

“We lost her.” Natasha crouched in front of him, putting her hands on his arms. “But we’ll get her back.”

He pushed her aside and stood quickly.

“Where did you put my gear?”

“Clint, we’re going to figure this out. Together.”

“Cap, either you tell me where my gear is, or I’ll beat the information out of you. Super soldier or not, pretty sure I’d win this one.” Clint rolled his head from side to side and cracked his knuckles.

“I’m not going to fight you Clint.”

“Good, that will make it easier for me. Where is my gear?” He brought his fists up, readying himself to swing.

“Stop, this isn’t helping.” Natasha rushed to stand between the two men. “We can figure this out. This is why you we’re left behind. You’re too invested. Just take a breath.” She said trying to calm Clint and get him to focus.

“What I miss?” Bruce asked, walking into the room, taking in the scene before him.

“They lost her, Bruce.” It came out as a sob.

Bruce was at Clint’s side, gripped Clint’s shoulders, looked him in the eye and said “then we find her.”

“You don’t understand, she’s all I have and they lost her.”

“I know man. I care about her too, we’ll find her. No matter what it takes, we’ll get her back. I promise. And she’s not all you have. You’ve got us…not that that’s any consolation right now, I’m sure.” Bruce let go of Clint and turned to Natasha. “Nat, you must have had a tracker on her or on Eric, activate them so we can go after them.”

“They removed the trackers. We tried to follow, but lost them when they got airborne. Also, I’m a little offended…you’ve got me, best friend…remember?”

“How did they know where the trackers were? We’re we dumb enough to put a SHIELD logo on them?” Clint asked, ignoring Natasha’s reminder of their friendship.

“No, Clint. Eric knew where they were. He must have drugged her; he got her to the roof, pulled her into a helicopter and then threw down the trackers.”

“We weren’t watching the roof? Are we new?”

“The Agents assigned to watch the roof were found, dead, stuffed in an HVAC cabinet.”

“How did Eric know where the trackers were?” Bruce asked.

“We don’t know. He may actually have been working with HYDRA. We should have vetted him better. I’m sorry, Clint.” Steve said reaching out to him.

“Fuck off.” Clint took a deep breath, ran both his hands through his hair and walked to the bar. He grabbed a bottle and a rock glass, poured himself a drink, slammed it back and then threw the glass, then the bottle. He was throwing everything within his reach—bottles, glasses, chairs. He picked up a bar stool and swung it at the liquor shelf behind the bar, a scream of frustration, anger and desperation ripped from his throat. He looked up and saw Bruce, Natasha and Steve staring at him.

“You lost her. You convinced her to knock me out, left me here on the sidelines and you let her get taken. You let some punk kid WHO WE KNEW WORKED FOR THE BAD GUYS, take her to this damn fundraiser. And now your fucking telling me we have no way to track her, because the same punk WHO WE KNEW WORKED FOR THE BAD GUYS, found the trackers and got rid of them. If anything happens to her, I will never forgive any of you.”

Clint stared at all of them, breathing hard. “What the fuck do we do now?”

“We are going to get every CCTV, camera and cell phone working for us. We are going to run her and Eric’s face until one of them pings. Then we’re going to go in and rescue her.” Natasha said, taking a tentative step towards him.

“The plan is to sit and wait. Fuck that. What is so fucking funny, Banner?” Clint noticed Bruce was chuckling to himself.

“Nothing. Nothing. It’s not funny. It’s just…well your over protective stalker tendencies. I was thinking it’s too bad this is the one time they could have paid off. If Christina was wearing the necklace you gave her, we could find her.”

“What necklace?” Natasha asked. “Did it have an arrow pendant? Why would it help us find her?”

“Yes, it has an arrow pendant. I may have given my girl a necklace that has a tracker in the pendant. In case you haven’t noticed I’m a bit overprotective. But can you blame me? Especially after the amateur hour we just experienced.”

“No. No…this is good. She was wearing it…not as a necklace, she put it on her bracelet. She put the arrow on her bracelet. She’s wearing it. We can track her.” Natasha ran down the corridor towards Bruce’s lab; Clint on her heels.

“Does Christina know she’s wearing a tracking device?” Steve asked, following Clint and Natasha into the lab.

“No. I didn’t think it would be a good idea to tell her.”

“Umm…about that…I may have let it slip that you put one on her. But we never discussed what it was.”

“Really, Banner? Could you just be on my team here? What did she say when you told her?” Clint asked, letting his curiosity get the better of him.

“That she was going to kill you…but then we got distracted with the whole ‘Eric works for HYDRA’ thing.”

“That’s my girl. Now let’s find her.”

“Clint, what kind of tracker did you use? Is it GPS, RFID, Geofencing? Is there an access code?”

“Hang on, I’ve got it on my phone. How do I make this thing show up on that screen?”

“Go to cast and cast to BruceLab2.”

“What?” Clint said, holding his phone at arms length and squinting his eyes.

“Just give me the damn phone.” Bruce grabbed it out of Clint’s hands, pushed a couple of buttons and cast the screen on to one of the larger monitors in the lab. “That white blip is Christina. It looks like they’re somewhere in Newark.”

“I hate Jersey.” Steve said, dropping his head staring at the floor.

“We should get a hold of Tony for some back up.” Natasha pulled out her phone.

“I’m already here. What the hell happened to my bar?”


	36. Captivity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens after a kidnapping.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” Once again, I found myself tied to a chair in an unknown room. The last thing I remembered was Eric handing me my drink.

“Hey, you’re awake. Drink this.” It was Eric, he was pushing a glass of water to my lips. I tried to pull away. “You need to drink something, you’re probably dehydrated.”

“Eric, what the fuck is going on? Where are we?”

“As much as I appreciate your faith in me, that I just fucked up and was on your side the whole time…I’m HYDRA. And you have something they need.”

“Dude, I know you’re HYDRA. I knew since the moment I joined SHIELD. You kept asking the wrong kind of questions; like you already had some information and were trying to dig deeper. Someone was feeding you the questions and you didn't even try to make them your own, put them in your own words. Eric, you’re just a really bad spy.”

“Well you’re here all tied up, so I guess I did something right.”

“Do you really think I would have let you take me if I wasn’t already planning on being taken?”

“Bullshit.”

“No, I’m serious. If I had stayed with Clint or any of the Avengers, I’d never have a chance to get close to Jamie and his lackies and finish the job I started.”

“You’re tied up, what do you plan on doing. Making your hands go all glow? Nah, too dangerous, you don’t know who else is around, or who you could kill. I got guys into SHIELD based on what you told me; your entire organization is going down because of the work that I’ve done. We’re going to start a new world order.”

“Eric look at me, listen to me. You don’t want to do any of this. You love me, remember?” It had been so long since I had tried to control anyone’s emotions, I was a bit rusty. “Why don’t you come over here, untie me, and tell me what HYDRA wants from you. It’ll be ok, I won’t tell that you told. It will be our little secret.”

Eric blinked, looking a bit confused. “You won’t tell?”

“No, Eric, I won’t. Come on over and untie me and we’ll talk.”

Eric moved towards me, I was ecstatic, I hadn’t lost my touch.

“HYDRA will be mad at me.” He stopped, looking unsure.

“No, Eric, they won’t. They won’t know. I’ll keep you safe. You’re my best friend, I love you. Come untie me.”

He reached down to pull on the knots that tied my arms to the chair. He stopped suddenly, his eyes looked at mine, going wide.

“Eric, what’s wrong?”

He looked down and so did I. There was a red stain blooming across his chest. 

“Ow.” He collapsed on the floor in front of me.

“ERIC! ERIC GET UP! ERIC!”

“He’s not getting up.” Jamie walked over, holstering a gun. He kicked Eric in the side, rolling him onto his back. Eric’s lifeless eyes staring up at mine. “Oh, don’t try to go all ‘Super Nova’ on me, the drugs we gave you keep that from happening. Although, it appears as if they don’t keep you from changing people’s emotions. Remind me to kill someone about that later.

“He was useless you know. None of the information he gave us was valuable at all.” Jamie started undoing the ropes that tied me down. “Our other contacts were able to get much better information…you’re still a shitty marksman I gather?” He looked at me, waiting for a response. Not getting one, he carried on. “The only good this boy ever did was get you to trust him. I suppose it was because he was weak and you have this need to protect people, but see where that got him? Dead. Everyone you love will die, just because you love them, no other reason.”

Jamie yanked me out of the chair, grabbing my hair, pulling my head back so my throat was exposed. “You still have a beautiful neck.” He licked up the side. “Maybe we’ll have some fun before we get started.”

“What do you want?” I asked, finally finding my voice. I was fairly certain I was going into shock.

“Imagine, if you will, a world where the masses can be subdued or brought to a boil with out effort. Imagine an army who’s moral never suffers, who’s desire to kill is insatiable. With your blood, we can make that happen, we can make the masses do as we want, feel as we want. Now, of course, we don’t want to give them your explosive powers, those will just go to me, as I am deserving.”

“Is this your supervillain monologue? If so, you should wrap it up before you give too much away, haven’t you ever watched a Bond movie?”

He slapped me across the face. I tasted blood. “I see you still have a smart mouth on you. All that training gone to waste.”

“Training? You mean when we were married and kept me from doing anything? Kept me from speaking my mind? Kept me from my family, from making friends?”

“You’re my wife, you are meant to be seen, not heard. At least you haven’t gotten fat since we’ve been apart.”

“Are you going to kill me?”

“No. Why would I do that? You’re my wife, I love you. You will submit to me in all ways, at all times. Once my enhancements are complete, we will have children and raise them in the ways of HYDRA.”

“I’ve been fucking someone else.”

Jamie gripped my wrist and twisted my arm; I heard a crack.

“I know. You will be punished and he will die. I have faith that he, and his friends, will come for you. Some of them will die, some will be given the choice to live, so long as they choose the HYDRA way. But he will die.”

“You are a Bond supervillain; you’re bat shit crazy. Ahhhh…” I cried out as he twisted my arm farther.

“Time to go. I really do like this dress, by the way.”

“I fucking hate you.”

Jamie let go of my arm and motioned for me to follow him. I considered trying to manipulate his emotions, but changed my mind, I didn't want his crazy in me. Who knows what would happen if I took in any of his essence. Since I had nowhere else to go, and no exit plan, I followed along.

It appeared that we were in a medical facility…but where were the employees? I changed my mind, we were in a previously abandoned medical facility that had no employees, that had to be it. We passed by recovery rooms, small surgical suites, there was a poster on the wall for breast augmentation…ah, it was a cosmetic surgery medical facility. 

“Where are we going? Can you walk slower, I don’t have on any shoes.”

“If you didn’t have a tracker in your shoe, you’d still have shoes. It’s your own fault, keep up.”

“But where are we going?”

“To the lab, where else are we going to be able to get blood samples. You really are stupid.”


	37. Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is it really a rescue mission?

“Clint, where are you going?”

“Newark, apparently. Anyone going to tell me where my gear is, or do I have to get the kitchen knives again?”

“I locked it up in Steve’s room. Bruce, Tony, find out what you can about that building…floor plans, access points, the whole nine. Steve, figure out the play. Clint and I will be back in a minute.”

“Clint, are you sure you want to come with us?”

Clint was half in to his gear and rounded on Natasha, tripping over his quiver straps, landing on his side. He pulled himself up off of the floor and asked “what the hell do you mean?”

“We don’t know what we are going to find there. We don’t d know what condition anyone is going to be in. We don’t know whose side everyone is going to be on.”

“Nat, are you trying to tell me that Christina may be in on this?”

“I don’t know. And I don’t care. All I care about is you. You fell for this girl so fast, you made her part of this team, and we all care for her now. I think Bruce may lover her just as much as you do. What if it is a set up, then what do we do? You’d never forgive any one of us if we had to kill her. If we have to take her into custody…Clint I don’t think you can handle having your heart and mind broken again.”

“You think Bruce loves her?” Clint asked, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice.

“Yes, but not like how you lover her. He loves her like I love you. They have something in common, just as we have something in common. We’re family. You’re the only family I have, you need to promise me you go into this not just to rescue Christina, but to find the truth about everything. Who she truly is, who Eric and Jamie are and be ready to end whatever this is.”

“Natasha, when this is all over, I’m getting down on one knee and asking her to marry me. She’s everything I was looking for in Bobbi and in Laura, but all together. I have to get her back.”

“Then I will do my best to keep her alive for you, unless she’s been lying to us this whole time. I just don’t know how a jailhouse marriage would work for an Avenger.” Natasha meeting his eyes with her steady gaze.

“If that’s the case, if that’s how this ends, I’m retiring and joining a convent. No, that’s for women…I’m joining the Priesthood.”

Clint pulled the quiver onto his back, attached another to his right thigh and slung a bow over his back. “Ready to go, Nat?”

“Always ready. Clint, can I be in your wedding?”

“You’re going to be standing right up there next to me. You’re my best lady.”

“You’d be a terrible Priest.”

“I know.”

Clint and Natasha walked back to Bruce’s lab arm in arm.

“Captain, call the play.” Clint said walking back into the lab.

“Gentlemen, and lady, according to the tracking device that Christina is wearing, we’ve established that she is in Krause Cosmetic Surgery, no longer operational. Based on the financial data Tony pulled up, it was more than likely a front for HYDRA. We make entry in three places, front door, back door and roof.”

“I call back door.”

Clint threw a computer mouse at Tony. It was the only non-lethal thing he could get his hands on.

“Have you done?” Nat asked, glaring at them.

“Sorry. Capsicle, please continue.”

“There are no surveillance cameras in the area that are hooked up to an interwebbed network we can access. Did I say that right, Bruce?”

“Close enough.”

“We’ll essentially be going in blind. Tony, even though you called back door, I think it would be better if you went in from the roof. You can do a fly over and scan for heat signatures. Why are you laughing? Why is Tony laughing?”

“I’ll explain it to you later, Steve. Clint and I will take the front. You and Bruce take the rear…always call it the rear going forward, it’s not much better but, anyway…Tony you’ve got the roof. Our main goal is to get Christina out safe; Eric is second. Anyone who steps you, kill on site.”

Everyone started to leave the room. “Hey, guys?” Clint called after them.

They all turned back to face him.

“I’m sorry about what I said earlier. Thank you for this. Thank you for helping me get her back.”

“She’s family, Barton. This is what we do for family.” Tony said, clapping Clint on the back.

“Is this the place?” Clint asked as Natasha pulled up to the curb in front of a Dairy Queen, on the other side of the street.

“No, Clint. We’re stopping for ice cream.”

“Hey folks, if you’re getting ice cream, can we wait until the whole team is available.” Tony’s voice said, coming over their earpieces.

“What do you see from up there, Stark?” Steve called out, ever the professional, ever the soldier.

“I’ve got heat signatures, 13 people…how unlucky. Six at the front, three at the rear, four in an interior room. There’s also a body, getting colder by the second, it’s the third room down from the entrance on the left.”

“Is everyone in position?” Steve asked. “Stark, do you have an entry point?”

Every one responded in the affirmative.

“Make entry.”

Natasha crashed through the front door, rolling and coming up guns out. Clint was a few steps behind, covering her with his bow.

The six HYDRA Agents guarding the front door raised their weapons in unison. Half pointed at Natasha, half at Clint.

“Good morning, Gentlemen. The day is new and unbloodied. How about you all drop your weapons and we can keep it that way?”

An arrow flew over Natasha’s shoulder, embedding in its targets eye.

“Or not.” Natasha risked a quick glance over her shoulder, giving Clint a ‘what the fuck?’ look.

“He flinched.”

The Six Hydra Agents were no match for the two master assassins. Five were down in under a minute, the sixth was up against the wall, an arrow pinning him in place.

“Where are they?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Clint grabbed his arrow and twisted it.

“Where are they. Christina, Jamie and Eric?”

The man pinned the wall reached down and pulled a knife, swinging it up towards Clint’s neck. A gunshot rang out, and the assailant was no more, a bullet between his eyes.

“I get a ‘what the fuck’ look and you just go ahead and shoot people I’m trying to get information out of? Not fair, Nat.”

“Come on. Let’s keep moving.”

They moved down the hallway, clearing each room as they went.

“Damn. Is that Eric?” Natasha said, rushing towards the body on the floor.

“Just leave him, he got no more than what he deserved.”

“Clint, he’s still got a pulse.”

“He’s shot in the chest; he’ll be dead in a minute. We don’t have time. We have to find Christina.”

“We can’t just leave him to die.”

“Fine. Stay with him. I’m going to find her.”

“Clint, wait!” Natasha called after him as he ran out of the room.

Clint ran down the hallway, hoping he could find Christina before Jamie was able to hurt her, or take her away somewhere else.

He found her; she wasn’t alone.

“Oh, look. It’s your boyfriend. Does he know you’re married? What kind of man sleeps with another man’s wife?”

“Let her go.” Clint leveled his bow at Jamie’s heart.

“Seeing as how there are four of me, and only one of you; that’s not going to happen.”

“He’s not alone.” Natasha said coming up behind Clint. 

“Hmm, two on four, still odds are in my favour.”

“How about four on four?” Tony asked, crashing through the skylight above, Steve following.

“I thought you guys were taking the rear.”

“The rear was too easy, like it had been entered many times before.”

“Tony.” Natasha groaned.

“Banner is with Eric.”

“Eric is still alive?” I struggled to sit up, as once again I was tied down. This time to an examination table. “HA! Jamie, you failed.” I wasn’t able to sit up after all, but I turned my head and stuck my tongue out at him and got smacked I the face again.

I heard a _thwang_ sound as Clint loosed an arrow towards Jamie. He dodged it; weird, Clint never misses.

“Did…did you just miss?” Tony asked.

“All of your super powers are useless against us. We’re just like you. Once we have Christina’s blood, we’ll control you and you will do our bidding.”

“Is this a supervillain monologue? Don’t you know that never works out for the bad guy?” Tony shot his repulsors at Jamie; he dodged again, flipping over the exam table I was laying on.

The three HYDRA agents in the room converged on the Avengers.

“Could someone maybe untie me?” I called out. I couldn’t see much, flashes of light, debris flying over my head.

“Hang on, I’ve got you.” Natasha was at my side, cutting through the straps that were holding me down. “You’re free, stun these assholes.”

“Nat, I can’t, they drugged me.”

“Then get them on your side. Control their emotions.”

“No. It’s too much. I don’t think I can handle it.”

“These guys are enhanced. We need your help. Please.”

“Umm…ok…Everyone, stop fighting!” They didn’t. I tried again. “Everyone, look at me, no one here is your enemy, we’re all friends.” Fists stopped swinging, repulsors stopped firing arrows stopped flying and everyone looked at me. “Fantastic. Now, everyone who works for HYDRA, put your weapons down.” To my shock and awe, they put them down. The Avengers still held their weapons, but were no longer in fight mode. “Hey, where did Jamie go?”

“Right here, bitch.” His arm was around my neck, knife at my throat.

“Seriously?!? Why can’t I control your emotions?”

“We were married, you don’t think I was able to get some of your blood and find a way to keep you out of my head? I perfected the serum on myself; no one controls me. We just need a bit more and soon all of HYDRA will be immune to you. Just in case you weren’t listening the first time…our army will be unstoppable, never tiring, killing without question. Your blood is the key to our new world order. Me and my men have had a few enhancements, making ourselves equal to you and your precious Avengers… ”

“You’re really big on monologuing. What do you want now, Jamie? Do you want to talk about your super secret bad guy lair?” I was trying to stall. If Jamie, if HYDRA was able to harness my abilities, any and all people could be used as weapons. No one would ever be safe. It was my biggest fear coming true, my abilities becoming weaponized.

“Release my men, and we’ll go somewhere else…once we figure out how these fine folks found you. Ask them, make them tell you.”

“Fuck. Ok, guys…how did you track me? I thought Eric removed the trackers when we got in the helicopter?”

Silence. From all parties.

“Come on sweetheart, say it like you mean it.”

I felt a trickle of blood go down my neck as Jamie pushed the knife in deeper.

“Ow.” I tried to turn my head, but the knife kept me still. _‘Shoot me.’_ I signed to Clint. “Maybe if there wasn’t a knife at my neck, I’d be able to focus.” I looked towards Clint, hoping my emotional control worked silently… _’Shoot me.’_ If I couldn’t stop Jamie, if he was immune to me, the only logical thing to do was take myself out of the equation.

“What the fuck. Get Hawkboy here to lower his bow.”

_‘Do it now, Clint.’_

This time I didn’t hear the arrow coming. I just felt a pain in my chest.

“Oh my God!...Christina!...NO!” The last voice I heard was the sound of a heart being ripped in two.


	38. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rescue becomes recovery.

Christina must have lost focus when the arrow hit her. Her emotional control lost its power. The fighting began anew. 

“Stupid bitch. You don’t need to be alive for us to use your blood.”

Jamie reached down and grabbed Christina’s arm, starting to pull her from the room. 

Clint’s flying tackle caught Jamie on the left, driving them both to the floor.

“I’m going to fucking kill you.” Clint growled.

“You can try, but you will fail.”

They climbed over each other, trying to keep the other down while getting to their feet.

Clint was up first and aimed a left hook, catching Jamie in the mouth. 

Jamie spit blood on the floor. “You’re a normal human being. The enhancements HYRDA has given me make you even punier and weaker…

“Shut the fuck up.”

The men came together, matching each other blow for blow. Clint fighting with a passion borne from love lost, Jamie from the insanity within him.

Steve tried to enter the fight; the other HYDRA Agents were down.

“Stay out of this…he’s mine.” Clint shouted. 

Clint dodged a kick aimed at his shin, spun and grabbed Jamie’s arm, pulling it behind him, driving Jamie to his knees.

“Stop! Barton! We need him alive. He has information on HYDRA.”

“Fuck HYDRA, Steve.” Clint pulled a knife from his belt, one from the kitchen at Stark Towers, and drove it into Jamie’s neck.

Clint threw Jamie’s body away from him, watching him as he grabbed at his neck, trying to stop the blood, trying to stop his life from draining away.

He watched until Jamie stopped twitching and turned to Christina. 

Clint dropped to his knees beside her.

“Shit, baby. What did you make me do?” He went to pull the arrow from her.

“Stop, you idiot.” I said. “It may be the only thing keeping me alive. Pull it and I could bleed out. This hurts…a lot.”

“Why?” Clint moaned, grasping the sides of his head, as if in pain.

“It was the only option. I had to take myself out of the problem. It’ll be ok. It had to be you. You’d never forgive any of them…” It was getting harder to breath… “if they had done it…they…they’re your family.”

“Keep your eyes open. Stay awake. Please.”

There was darkness, muffled sounds, a solid, high pitched tone and then nothing.

I was being stabbed, repeatedly and rhythmically, once every few seconds. 

“Are you awake?”

The stabbing was my heart beating against my chest. Huh, I wasn’t dead. Fuck, where was I, who had me…shit, if it was HYDRA…no, the voice was too nice.

“Christina, can you open your eyes?”

Green..big…friend…doctor…what was his name?

“Bruce!” His name finally coming to me. “What happened?” I tried to speak, but all that came out was a horrible, crackling sound.

“Ok…ok…hang on…”

I felt the bed moving up, putting me in a semi-sitting position.

“Is that better?”

I coughed…that hurt…cleared my throat and tried again… “what happened?”

“Jamie’s dead, Clint killed him. Eric is alive, he’s in SHILED custody. Clint shot you with an arrow, you died for a bit…you flatlined. It was really scary. You flatlined.”

“I was supposed to die, to stop my blood from being used for bad. Why did you bring me back?”

“Because we don’t let family die.”

“Where is Clint?”

“He’s gone. We can’t find him. After we got you back, he ran. I think you broke him.”

“Broke him?”

“Christina, you toyed with his emotions; you made him shoot you…your reasons are irrelevant.” He said cutting across my protests. “You and I have control over what’s in us…and we’re ok with the monster and magic within. He, however, has had two people controlling his actions over the past year, he probably feels like he has no control what-so-ever and that he’s not safe…again…you remember how that feels…”

“I have to get up. I have to find him.”

“Nat’s been looking for him for over a week, he’s a ghost.”

“A week?!? How long was I out for?” I struggled to get up, every movement pained.

“Stay still, you’ll rip a stitch. You’ve been out for almost eight days. You have a punctured lung, and a small hole in your descending aorta. You still need to recover.”

“I can’t just lay here while he’s out somewhere alone. I need to talk to him. To tell him I’m sorry, it was the only choice I saw. I need to tell him I love him. Bruce, let me up.”

“Please don’t. Don’t try to work your voodoo on me.”

I hung my head; I couldn’t hurt or use anymore of my friends.

“I’m sorry. Is Jamie really dead. Like for real this time?”

“Yes. I checked myself. Fingerprints, DNA, dental records, everything. The man known as Jamie Heron is no more.”

Bruce moved the bed back so I was laying down once again.

“Get some sleep. I’ll wake you if there is any news of Clint.”

It took nearly another whole week in recovery before I could even get out of bed and move without getting dizzy and blacking out. There was still no word from Clint.

I couldn’t stand the accusing stares from the rest of the team. Every time one of them looked at me I knew they were thinking about how dangerous I was, how I ripped apart their team and almost made one of their own a murderer, and now he was missing.

“Where ya’ goin’?” A voice from behind me called. I turned quickly, the new seam on my side twinging with the movement.

It was Natasha, leaning on the door frame, laptop in hand, of what I once considered to be my room.

“You shouldn’t sneak up on someone with a heart condition.”

‘Which is your own damn fault. What were you thinking?”

“I’m not going over this again. It was the best option to keep everyone safe.”

“Are you sure you just didn’t want to die? Want to die so that you wouldn’t have to deal with the pain and hurt of your ex still being around and your best friend selling you out?”

“No! And even if I did, I wouldn’t have put that on Clint. Nat, you have to help me find him. There has to be something I can say, or do to get him to come back home.”

“While you were away at SHIELD training, he borrowed this laptop. I went over it, there are a bunch of files on there about you, and your past.”

“He looked at the jump drive I gave him.”

Natasha looked at me, unsure of what I just said meant.

“I have…had, a jump drive with my life history on it. Everything from before I was recruited by Central to the time I moved to New York. It was the only complete record of my life.”

“He looked at this file the most, does it mean anything to you? All of the geo-tagging has been disabled.”

“Well, duh, of course it is, I’m not stupid.”

I grabbed the laptop and looked at the file Natasha pulled up. It was a picture of me on holiday, just after I joined Central, but before Jamie got his hooks into me. I looked…happy.

“Nat, I need a car, I have to go. I think I know where he is.”

“Go. Bring him home.”


	39. Why are You Here?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why are you here?

I stole…no commandeered one of Tony’s many vehicles. I grabbed the biggest, badest looking one, a lifted Jeep 4x4 with a snorkel. I knew I’d need it where I was going, but was seriously questioning why Tony needed this vehicle in New York City.

It was a long drive to where I was going and I didn’t intend to stop. I drove like a woman possessed, through the American Mid-West and crossed the Canadian border just East of the Rockies. Stopping for the night, just on the Canadian side of the border, I started thinking about the last time I had been here and where my life was headed at that time.

I was in med-school, just after being recruited by Central I had a break, a two-week gap between classes and anything Central related, so I took a road trip. I packed a bag, threw a cooler in the back of the second hand Jeep I owned—nowhere near as nice as Tony’s—and drove. I drove as far as I could, allowing myself a few days to do whatever I pleased, before having to turn around and go back.

I drove West, to the Rockies. I had taken all the back roads I could find, wanting to lose myself in the beauty that was the Canadian Rockies. I drove my beaten-up old Jeep as far as I could, then hiked and camped for two days. I had found a valley with a beautiful lake, pristine and blue with a bluff over looking the whole valley. That’s where the picture was from; the one that Clint had looked at, repeatedly. It was a selfie I had taken; it was the last time I think I had been truly happy.

This time, I wasn’t going there to find myself, I was going to bring him home; even if home didn’t include me anymore. It had been years since I had visited the valley, and the only time I had been there, I had found it by fluke. I just hoped I could find it once again.

It was early morning when I parked Tony’s Jeep where I thought I had parked mine so many years before and started to hike; looking for any signs that Clint—or anyone—had been in the area recently. _‘Then again,’_ I though to myself, _‘if Clint had come this way, he probably wouldn’t have left footprints, being a super skilled spy and all.’_

Several hours later, the light was beginning to fade and I was losing hope that I would find the lake, or Clint. Maybe I didn’t know him as well as I thought I did. Also, hiking at this altitude with a barely healed chest wound was starting to take its toll. I would have to stop for the night soon.

Pushing my way through a dense copse of trees, I found myself looking at the lake. My lake. I looked around scanning the horizon for any signs of Clint; I was close to loosing hope, he was nowhere to be seen. Then there was a slight movement a top the bluff. He was there, sitting as still as stone, blending into the forest and stone around him; his back to me.

I walked up the bluff, not even trying to be stealthy, and sat beside him. He didn’t acknowledge me.

“Well, I’m alive.” I said, after sitting for several long minutes in silence.

“Why are you here?”

“You disappeared. You didn’t tell anyone where you were going. We’re all worried about you. And, I’m so sorry.” My voice broke, and tears rolled down my cheeks.

“I came here to be alone. And maybe understand the woman I loved.”

“Loved…as in past tense of love?”

“What could you possibly be sorry for? I shot you. I killed you. Love isn’t an option for us anymore.”

“Like hell it isn’t!” I shouted, scaring off a flock of birds. Pain lanced through my chest; shouting was not a good idea.

Clint looked at me like he was just realizing I was actually here beside him. He looked at my hand clutching my chest, his eyes went wide.

“What are you doing here? You shouldn’t be here, you need to be resting, recovering.”

“I’m fine…get off of me you goof.” Clint was pulling at me, in what I presumed was an effort to find where the pain was coming from and make it go away. “You’re hurting me, stop.” I pushed him away.

“Fuck. I’m sorry. I can’t do anything right.”

“No. This is my fault. I should have tried harder to keep you away. I made you shoot me. It’s my fault you’re out here alone, away from the people who care about you.”

“I should have kept him from taking you. I should have been stronger and fought to go with you. I should have killed him when I saw him.

We started talking over each other, each trying to explain how the happenings of the past few weeks were no fault of the other. Our voices echoed across the lake, and into the mountains around us.

“Hang on. Stop.” I said holding up my hands. Clint continued his protests, not hearing me. I took grabbed one of his hands and held my finger up to his lips. “Shhh…I have an idea.”

“Huh?”

“Ewww. Did you just lick me?” I laughed, ignoring the pain, for the first time in weeks as Clint stuck out his tongue and licked the finger I held up against his mouth. “Clint, can we maybe be both to blame here? We both fucked up, trying to protect each other, rather than communicating and working together.”

“I think that may work.”

“Good, I’ll go first. I shouldn’t have tried to shut you out. I should have let you come with me. I should have listened to your worries about Eric. I shouldn’t have had you shoot me; I should have trusted you and everyone else to come up with a better endgame. I’m sorry. Now your turn.”

“I should have been with you and stopped everything before your needed saved. I should have pushed harder to keep Eric away from you. I should have been able to resist you screwing with my head. I should have been with you when you woke up. I’m sorry.”

He slipped his arm around my waist and pulled me up against him. I laid my head on his shoulder, he rested his head on mine. 

“This isn’t going to be easy; getting this back on track.” He whispered into my hair.

“What in our lives has ever been easy? Why did you come here, Clint?”

“The picture on your jump drive. I’ve never seen you look that happy. I wanted to find the place that brought you so much joy.”

“You know, now that place is wherever you are…that was a cheesy line, wasn’t it?” I felt, more than heard his laugh.

We sat, watching the setting sun; cuddled up against each other.


	40. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not a dance

“Where were you planning on sleeping?”

“I’ve been here for almost a week. I just kind of doze off wherever I am.”

“A week, eh? That explains the smell.”

“Shut up.” Clint nudged me in the side.

I hissed through my teeth; he jarred my incision.

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry. Shit.”

“Squeezing doesn’t help. Squeezing doesn’t help, let me go.” I gasped as he tried to pull me into a hug.

“Damn it. I’m bad at this.”

“It’s ok. You just need to be gentle with me.”

“For how long?” He asked, peering down at me. Trying and failing to look innocent.

“We’re sitting outside, on a rock, probably surrounded by bears and wolves. We have no food, very little drinkable water…and you’re thinking about sex?”

“Yeah. I mean, if you still want me. I did shoot you with an arrow and all.”

“Out here? In the wilderness? For all to see?”

“We may scare away a few bunnies...” His voice was low and huskie, laced with desire.

I moved, slowly, not wanting to hurt myself. I moved so I was straddling his hips, pushing him down so he was laying down on the bluff.

“Oh, damn. No.” I ungracefully flopped off of him, curling up protecting my wound. “I think sexy time may be on hold for a bit. At least until I’m able to keep myself upright.”

Clint scooped me up in his arms, cradling me against his chest. 

“I’m sorry! Can we add this to the list of things I’m sorry for?”

“Ha…oh don’t make me laugh.”

“Ok. We need to get you someplace where you can lay down, somewhere where you can recover.”

“It took me all day to hike here, there is no way we are making it back to the Jeep I borrowed from Tony before night truly falls. It’s already dusk.”

“When you were here, before, how much exploring did you do?”

“Not much, I found the lake. Pitched my tent away from the game trail and camped for a few nights. Why?”

“You must have been a terrible spy. On the other side of that ridge, that one there…” He said pointing off to the West, “is a really nice bed and breakfast thing. There’s a gravel road that leads right up to the house. That’s where I’m taking you.”

“Hang on, there’s a B&B? Why weren’t you staying in there?”

“Because you didn’t.”

Clint and I walked, well, he half carried me, over the ridge. There was a cute log cabin with a B&B shingle hanging out front.

“Here,” I said reaching into my pocket. “It’s my credit card.”

“Nah, probably tracked. I’ve got an untraceable one. We don't need the Avengers showing up tonight, now do we?”

Clint got us a room and went to run me a bath, which I refused until after he showered. As much as I loved unkempt scruffy Clint, he really did need to bathe.

I was relaxing in the tub, looking at my stitches and thinking I shouldn’t be in a bath while being held together by string, when Clint walked back in.

“Privacy isn’t a thing among us, I take it?”

“I just wanted to make sure you were still alive; you’ve been in here for almost an hour.”

“I have gone all prune skinned. Help me out, please?”

He helped pull me out of the tub, wrapped me in a fluffy towel and led me into our room. 

"Our hosts brought us some snacks."

There was a bottle of wine, and a meat, cracker and cheese tray.

"I love this place." I said, eye fucking the cheese.

"Me too." Clint said, two crackers already stuffed in his mouth.

We snacked and then curled up under a well worn patchwork quilt.

"This is what I imagine home to be." I said, half asleep. "Someplace with quilts and fireplaces and space and trees. Good night, Clint." I kissed him and fell almost immediately asleep, next to him.

We had a very early breakfast with the sweetest old couple the following morning. Clint kept looking around the room, almost like he was in shock or waiting for something evil to jump from behind a curtain.

"What are you looking at?" I asked him, peering over the rim of my mug.

"I'm admiring the crown moulding and wainscotting, I think it's original to the house...turn of the century."

"You very much have resting murder face, dear." I said and rolled my eyes going back to my breakfast.

Our walk back to the lake was much more leisurely, we weren’t trying to beat the night; but rather, enjoy our time together.

“Do we have to go back up the bluff? It’s so high and steep?” I protested as Clint started walking up the slope.

“Don’t worry, babe, I’ve got you.”

We climbed up to the top of the bluff, it was just after dawn. The early sunlight breaking through the light fog that covered the lake. Loons were calling to each other across the water. This was my happy place, and I was sharing it with the man I loved.

“Do you hear the loons?” I asked turning to Clint, but he wasn’t there. He had been just there, behind me, he helped me up the bluff. “Clint…” I started to call out.

“Right here.”

He was there, down on one knee, ring in hand.

“What are you doing?”

“I know this relationship hasn’t been normal. I know things have gone fast. I know that we’re going to have some challenges. I know I love you and when you died, I couldn’t imagine going on without you. Then you came back, and I thought you’d hate me, but you’re here. I don’t want to be without you any longer, I want to spend my life with you.”

He stayed there holding the ring up, looking up at me expectantly.

“Are you going to ask, or am I just supposed to guess?”

“What? Oh, fuck, I’ve never really done this before. Christina, will you marry me?”

“Of course.”

He jumped up and wrapped me in his arms. One hand at the back of my neck, pulling me against his shoulder, the other around my waist, holding me tight. He let me go, grabbed my hand and slid the ring on to my finger.

“Wow. It fits.” He was trying to hide a smile, but it kept flicking on and off his face.

“Not to shabby, Hawkeye.” I reached around his neck and pulled him down into a gentle kiss. 

“It was my grandmothers.”

“Fuck off. Seriously. I can’t accept this.”

“You can, and you will.”

“Yes sir.” I kissed him again. “Hang on…weren’t you married before? Twice? You never proposed?”

“Actually, no. Bobbi and I just ended up in front of a judge one day, and Laura technically asked me. I like this much better.”

The trek back to where I had parked Tony’s Jeep tired me out. I gave Clint the keys and told him to take us home.

I drifted in and out of sleep as we drove back into the US and down various interstates. We stopped and ate at no name truck stop dinners, slept in hole in the wall motels. Our return trip took longer, we were savouring our time together; knowing when we got back to New York, there would be questions to be answered and so much drama…most probably from Tony.

Half awake I heard Clint mutter “fuck it,” and felt the Jeep take a quick exit, making me sway against my seatbelt.

“Sweetheart, wake up. Wake up we’re home.”

I opened my eyes; this was not New York. We were someplace rural, there was an orchard and a barn and a big rambling farm house with a wrap around porch.

“Where are we?” I asked climbing out of the Jeep and walking towards the house.

Clint swept me up in his arms, climbed the stairs, carried me over the threshold and said,

“Home, baby. We’re home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of part one.  
> I have an outline plan for a part two, it may take some time to develop into honest to goodness text.  
> Any comments or suggestions are appreciated.  
> Thanks!!!


End file.
